


the end of the fxxxing world

by riveatstoes



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Ace and Noodle Come in Later, Adventure, Complicated Relationships, Inspired by The End of The Fucking World, Lots of Original Characters - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riveatstoes/pseuds/riveatstoes
Summary: [based off of netflix’s “the end of the fxxxing world”]your name is murdoc niccals. you’re seventeen. and you’ve finally managed to convince yourself that you are a psychopath.or - murdoc and 2D go on an adventure, and make a few mistakes on the way.
Relationships: Ace Copular/Stuart "2D" Pot, Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	1. preface

**Author's Note:**

> i’m unsure if i’ll ever get around to writing season two (which is where ace and noodle were supposed to come in btw) so i’m just marking this as 9 chapters and i’ll change it if i do end up doing it.

this was supposed to be a fun project that turned into late nights and lots of continuity errors. if you want something that’s actually good, just watch the show itself and imagine the characters yourself. it’s wild, trust me.

this story does contain themes such as rape and violence, though neither topic is very well-written. i tried my best. have fun!


	2. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the story begins.

_One, two, three, four, five._

Everything in your box was just the way you’d left it last night. They were lined up perfectly by size, just like you always had it. He hadn’t messed with it. You would never forgive yourself if somehow he’d seen it.

_Six, seven, eight, nine, ten._

Sighing, you closed the lid and slid it back under your bed. You made a promise to yourself that as long as you lived, nobody, especially not your father, would come even close to viewing the contents of that box. You didn’t know what would happen if they did.

Your name is Murdoc Niccals. You’re seventeen. And you’ve finally managed to convince yourself that you are a psychopath.

Growing up your dad wouldn’t allow you to gain a sense of humor. All attempts at comedy made by anyone were shut down, especially after the incident when you were six. Eventually you forgot how laughing worked if it wasn’t sarcastic. You always resented your father for that, for not allowing you to be a normal kid.

There was this time when you were seven, where the teacher mocked you for not being able to count to ten. It was embarrassing, especially because you did know how to do it, you just couldn’t remember the word for “seven” - ironic, isn’t it? - You ended up punching a kid next to you for laughing.

At the age of ten, and then again at the age of eleven, you broke your nose. The first time, you smashed it with a hammer. The second time, you “tripped” and fell against the concrete. The only reason you allowed it to happen at all was so that you could feel something. Ever since your mother died you hadn’t been able to, and you wanted to.

On your fifteenth birthday, your dad and brother forgot about you. They went out to a local pub and drank. You always thought that maybe they did it on purpose because they didn’t find you worthy of a day to yourself. That night, you went into the woods behind your house and sat there. Eventually a demon came to you and you sold your soul to him for eternal life. You weren’t sure if it actually worked, but there was only one real way to test that kind of thing - by living.

A few days later, your brother ran away. You knew this because you’d been up when he did it. He offered to take you, but you didn’t want that kind of instability. You almost felt safer with your father. Even though he was sort of sadistic you knew that you were safer at home than you would’ve been with Hannibal.

_“It’s been two years, ‘Doc. Two years since your ungrateful lump of a brother left us,” he took a bite out of his pizza and a bunch of the sauce fell onto his lap, “Motherfucker!”_

You found that when your dad yelled, the world seemed to shake. After a while you’d gotten used to the shaking, though. You considered it to be a part of your routine at that point. All you had to do was destress afterwards and you’d be alright.

Usually when people - at least people on the TV - were stressed, they’d go out into the woods and scream, or write poetry, or masturbate. You were different. When you were stressed you ventured down into the basement and picked up a rat by the tail, and threw it against the wall. You smashed a cockroach with your bare foot. Then you took the rat back upstairs and chopped off its limbs. Then you put it in your box.

You thought that school was beneath you. You didn’t pass, but it wasn’t like your dad gave a shit. One thing school was good for, though, was observation and selection. You had this plan; you were going to kill something bigger, much bigger. You considered it a big destressing project more than anything else.

There was this idiot at school. He was memorable because he had blue hair and no eyes. He had found something in you that nobody else had before. You pretended to fall in love with him, because you knew nobody else would.

He pointed at your tray, which remained untouched, “Are you gonna eat that?” he asked, and you shook your head. He took that as an invitation to take the whole thing and shovel every last bit into his mouth. He was kind of cute the way he was, just sitting there with his mouth full. He would make a good victim. You could imagine him with a slit in his throat, blood gushing from everywhere possible, eyes - or lack-thereof - lifeless.

2D, which is what he asked you to call him, would meet you every day outside of the school. You’d walk with him until you reached his house, which came before yours no matter which route you took. That much was constant.

There was this one time where, when he met you after school, he pulled you in and kissed you. It was number one, with him and in general, and it was super shy. You’d never met anybody who was that shy towards you. It was almost adorable.

“I’m sorry, I just figured you felt the same towards me and I know people who date kiss each other and—” you cut him off by kissing him again, this time deeper. You were sort of at war with yourself the whole time, because you were unsure of if using your tongue was truly a good idea, but he didn’t choke or anything, so it was fine.

You figured if you were going to murder the guy you might as well have some fun with it.

The second you pulled away, he began talking, or more-or-less stuttering, again, “W-wow, okay. Uh, thank you for...um, that.”

“Your mouth tastes like bubblegum,” is all you said, before taking his hand rather aggressively and pulling him towards your usual route home. You noticed that he looked...starstruck, almost.

He would make the perfect kill. It would be glorious.

-

Everyone you know, and who isn’t related to you, calls you 2D, because you have two dents in your head. It was kind of mean at first but since then you’ve taken quite the liking to the nickname. You introduced yourself as that to Murdoc, and he quickly opened up to calling you that instead of Stuart.

You get headaches quite often, and when you do you just pop a few painkillers and suddenly you’re fine. At least your mum’s supportive. Well, she used to be. She was before she met Jasper, your stepdad. He forced her and you to begin working at his keyboard shop, at least part time, and at first it was fine, until you learned you were being underpaid and he actually hates your guts.

Your real dad doesn’t call. The closest he does is send birthday cards, and those don’t even come with handwritten notes. Just ‘from Dad’ written at the bottom. At least he doesn’t fail to send them every year.

The closest you’ve gotten to feeling okay-ish since Jasper moved in was through Murdoc, and even he was cold at times. It seemed like he didn’t even want to be around you anymore, which you supposed was fair. You’ve been told before that you’re quite annoying.

When you kissed him, you expected him to push you off, to call you a freak, to destroy any trust you had in him. But no, instead he pulled you in for another one, a deeper one. It made your heart flutter. You felt, strangely, okay.

“Your mouth tastes like bubblegum,” he says, before pulling you onto your usual after-school route. The way he held your hand, with your fingers interlocked, made you feel wanted. You wanted to kiss him again, but also didn’t want to push your luck.

-

You remembered that people who found themselves somehow in love went on dates, so you asked him, “Do you want to go on a date?” You paused, then added, “With me?”

“...Yeah,” he responded. You took one quick glance at him, and from that glance you could see the beginnings of his stupid, toothy grin. Actually, he was missing a tooth so it’d be more like a toothless grin. Either way it was stupid. He was stupid and you hated him.

-

You found yourselves at a mock-American diner, sitting across from each other. Murdoc looked kind of pretty sitting in this lighting; the sun bounced off his hair and it made the black look gold, and his mismatched eyes never looked more prominent. You felt like you were swimming in pools of brown and gold every time you looked at him.

Maybe you would’ve said something to him about how pretty he was if the waitress didn’t interrupt you, “Alright. Are you ready to order?”

He nodded, “Uh, yeah. Um...”

Obliviously, you cut him off, “I’ll have a banana split with extra cherries, some blueberry pancakes, and a hot chocolate with cream—”

“You’re hungry!”

“—Haha, yeah. Oh!” You passed a glance to Murdoc, thinking he’d get a kick out of what you were going to do just then, “And an extra-fucking-spoon.”

The waitress looked at you, “Excuse me?” She asked, and suddenly you felt guilty about the entire thing. Why did you say that? You didn’t swear much in front of people, so why would being around Murdoc change that?

You pointed at Murdoc, trying to play it off like it was a joke, “For him?”

“I’m sorry, you can’t use that language in here or I’m gonna have to ask you and your...” she hesitated, “...friend to leave. Okay?”

The way she spoke down to you made you feel like you were at the keyboard shop, like Jasper was yelling at you again, and your mum was doing nothing about it. 

_“Don’t touch that!” He shouted. You’d only gotten down the instrument from its shelf because you were bored and left your own at home. It was a slow day and you planned on wiping it down anyways. You didn’t know why it was such a big deal._

_You groaned and put it back on the shelf, “Maybe if I played it, it would draw more people to the store, yeah? Maybe I could get—”_

_He snapped his gaze towards you, “You are not as nearly as good as you think you are, Stuart. Stop pretending that you have a lick of talent and, for God’s sake, stop touching my shit!”_

_“Mum!” You called for your mother, but she took his side. She always did._

And then you were angry.

“Okay,” you said sarcastically, before your tone turned genuine, “Okay, I’m sorry. I am. Let’s try this again, alright? I’ll have a…” no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thoughts plaguing your mind, “...great big banana shit, with extra-fucking-cherries, all on top of it-”

“That’s it,” she slammed down her notepad, “Marvin!”

You threw your menu onto the table. Now it was personal, “Oh, yeah! Go get Marvin! See if Marvin can make a banana split for me, you fuckin’ cunt!” Then you ran out of the restaurant, slinging your jacket on as you ran. The second you stepped out, you felt bad, and for a moment you considered going back in and apologizing, but you honestly just thought that maybe you should let it go.

-

It seemed like 2D had a few issues.

“I’m sorry,” you told the waitress as you scooted out of the booth awkwardly. You knew that the task of killing somebody wouldn’t be easy, but you weren’t sure why you specifically had to pick the one with anger issues.

You were able to catch up to him fairly quickly, despite his legs being much longer than yours were. You liked to think he wanted you to catch up to him, that he was so gullible that he put any amount of trust in who you would personally consider a complete stranger.

The moment he noticed you were next to him, he stopped, and you did, too. You looked at him in his face the best you could, until he stopped it himself. He looked away for a quick moment, before putting one of his hands behind your neck and pulling you in. This kiss was a lot less shy, and the emotion was definitely there. It felt like he was about to start sobbing. 

Kissing him didn’t have the same effect that breaking your nose, twice, did, but there was definitely feeling there and you were unsure if you liked it. You felt like sparks were coming up your throat. You were unsure of how number three made you feel other than that.

“Cool,” is all you said when it was over.

“Can we go to your house?” He asked, looking at his feet. You didn’t know what else to tell him, so you agreed. All you hoped was that you could get him out before your father got home. It only took five minutes to walk there, and once you were there, there was no turning back. You could tell that 2D was judging the home due to how small and rubbish it was, but you didn’t care. You didn’t take criticism from people who would soon be dead.

You walked in, him having to crouch just to fit through the doorways. You reckoned he was definitely taller than your entire family, except for maybe Hannibal, but you didn’t consider him family anymore.

Once the two of you were in, he immediately started looking around. You were unsure if you should tell him to stop, so you ended up not doing that. He stopped in front of the mantle and held up a picture, the only one that your dad had the energy and funds to frame, “Is this your mum?”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to come up with a lie in the two seconds that you had before the silence became suspicious, “She’s in Japan.”

“Oh,” he put it down and continued looking around, “You look like her.”

Nobody’s ever said that to you before, but you supposed he was right. You and your mum had the same face basically, except your nose was uglier from all of the pressure you’d put on it. She was essentially just you with long hair.

You wanted to get him away from the pictures, so you took him outside. He noticed the swinging chair you had set up, the one that was basically broken. He asked if he could sit on it and you told him that you didn’t care, because you didn’t.

“This is pretty retro.”

He didn’t swing much; he kind of just sat there looking at you with those lifeless eyes, the ones you envisioned with blood pouring out of their sockets. You stood in the center of the garden, arms crossed, trying to think only about him dead, about the blood soaking his blue hair, about his eyes flickering shut, about him gasping for air.

But that wasn’t happening right now. Right now he was in your garden, on your swing chair, smiling like a dork. And you hated to admit it, but he was sort of a cute dork.

“I don’t like it,” you say, the thoughts of him dying being pushed out by those of your mother, of you in her lap, of her playing with your hair. You felt safe back then. Did you feel safe now?

You heard a car pulling into the driveway, and you knew instinctively: you weren’t safe, and neither was 2D.

-

Murdoc’s dad scared you. He had this way of staring into your soul without even looking at you. This almost made you feel sorry for Murdoc himself, but you knew that he wouldn’t want you to feel sorry for him.

“Well this is nice,” he says, his voice gravelly. You just nod and say nothing, looking at the table.

“What’s nice?” Murdoc asks in a mumble. You couldn’t see either of them, but you knew they were having an argument in their heads.

Sebastian - you learned his name later on - laughed, “You two!” He nudges your arm, “You know, I’ve gone his entire life thinking: ‘This kid’s kind of broken,’ but here you are! I mean...didn’t expect him to be gay but yanno.”

You didn’t say anything.

“He’s sort of a prick and all, but I guess there’s something to love in there, yeah? Through all of his utter stupidity—”

“Okay, Dad, that’s enough.”

The conversation didn’t last long after that. Sebastian sort of blew up and went to his room and Murdoc seemed...not fazed. He led you to the attic, and from there, the roof.

“My dad’s a prick,” he said, “Sometimes I feel like punching him.”

You laughed, “You should totally do that.” You didn’t mean that, of course. If he did that he’d probably get his spine tied into a knot. Or maybe you would if he found out that you’d encouraged the whole punching thing.

He hesitated, “Have you ever sucked someone off before?” The question threw you off-guard. You knew he was pretty blunt most of the time but you didn’t think he’d say something like that with so much confidence.

“O-Oh, yeah. A few times,” you were such a bad liar, and you knew it. You think he knows it, too.

“I want you to suck mine,” you sort of liked the confidence at that point, “I think you’d look good like that, you know...like...that...way.”

You tried to avoid getting too flustered over what he said, even if it wasn’t too amazingly articulated, “Right now?”

“Tomorrow,” he clarified, “Can you be here at eleven? My dad leaves at ten and comes back for lunch at twelve-thirty.”

“Um...yeah.”

-

You were ready at eleven. Actually, you were ready at nine. There was a lot of planning that went into something like this; it was more than just slicing his neck and running.

When it got to twelve and he still wasn’t there, you began feeling worried that he wouldn’t show up and you’d made a fool of yourself. Truthfully, he’d actually be rather smart if he just ran, far away from you and your bullshit.

-

You worried sometimes that you ruined things. Sure, you felt comfortable with Murdoc, but would it have hurt you to just tell him no? Apparently, it would. Even if you weren’t too opposed to the idea it was still weird.

Still, you needed him to stay with you, so you decided to see him. You didn’t think he’d exactly leave you if you didn’t show, but it wouldn’t be the first time you said ‘no’ to someone and they blew up. You begin walking out, but your mum steps in front of you, “Stu?”

“What?”

“The party,” she says simply, handing you a change of clothes.

You shook your head, “Mum, I told you earlier that I was going out today.”

She frowned, “I am not having this argument with you again, Stuart.”

“I really don’t want to…”

“Please,” she begs, “Do it for me!” You found it ironic, because ever since Jasper came into the picture, she’s never done anything for you. It was always whatever she wanted, or what Jasper wanted. It was like she forgot she had a child, who by the way, was supposed to be her number one priority.

You ended up being forced into handing out a tray of snacks whether you liked it or not. The outfit was uncomfortable and itchy, and you were certain she didn’t know what your pant size was anymore. You tried just eating most of them so they’d be gone faster, but she caught you.

Soon the tray was empty, and you stepped inside to get away from the group. You grabbed something from the fridge, anything to make the saliva go down your throat.

“Alright?” Jasper asks.

“Go away.”

He stuffs a beer in your hand and the two of you drink together. You try not to pay attention to him; you didn’t want to validate him. As you said, you just wanted anything to wash the gross feeling down your throat.

“This is bullshit,” he said.

“Cool? Glad you finally see it how I do.”

He turns to you, “How do you mean?”

“I mean ever since you showed up, my life’s basically been a nightmare.”

“Then leave.”

It was a simple statement, and afterwards he just left. You’d never thought of that, as simple as it was, and wondered if he’d been thinking that since he first moved in. Nevertheless, you decide to keep the idea in the back of your mind as you change into a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt, and head over to Murdoc’s house.

-

You hear a banging on the door and you go to let whoever it was in. Before long, 2D is in front of you, breathing heavily and sweating. He pushes past you and heads towards the living room, shedding off his jacket on the floor, “Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

Before you can even say anything, he grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you onto the couch. He kneels in front of you and pulls you in by the neck, shoving your lips together. It was uncharacteristically sloppy; even with the first one he was a bit more careful at making sure it wasn’t anything messy.

Number four.

You could do it right now. Your hand was reaching for the knife, which you had so gracefully hidden under one of your throw pillows, and you could have stuck it in his throat while he was distracted, but before you could, he stops and looks at you, “Let’s get out of here.”

“What?”

“I’m serious! We could get out of this stupid town together. You hate it, and I hate it, and you have a car!”

“It’s my dad’s.”

His eyes narrow, “He’s a prick, Muds! My parents are, too!” 

Muds. Huh. You liked that.

He stands up, “Are you coming with me?” And without thinking, you nod. Your dad would be home any second, which meant his car would be yours for the taking.

You stood up as well, and as he put on his jacket, you slipped your knife into its holder hidden behind your jeans. There would be plenty of time to do what you needed to; you weren’t in any sort of rush.

Just as you thought, your dad pulled in right as you stepped outside. He got out of the car with a pizza in his hands, smirking creepily at 2D. That was enough to fuel the fire.

Neither of you knew what you were doing, but you punched your dad and stole his car. That was a pretty good start.


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there’s a few car troubles, but they’re off to a great start! plus a kind man stops to help them, and only good things can come from that...

The car was on fire.

“Do you think it’s gonna explode?” Murdoc asked, arms crossed over his stupid, bare chest. He looked like an idiot, and it was all your fault.

“It’s not a film,” you reckoned if this was a film, you and Murdoc would be American. Americans got everything.

Before it crashed, you’d been having a good day. You paid for him and you to have a game of laser tag, and then he brought you to lunch. It was a shame that your journey had to end so soon.

-

Lunch was just at some diner. You wanted to lay low for a while since you’d stolen your dad’s car and all. While you ate, you kept imagining what sounds 2D would make when you killed him. Would he scream? Or would he just let it happen?

“I’m glad I didn’t take my phone,” he said through a mouthful of chips, “Mum’s probably calling nonstop. She’s sorta stupid, ya know?”

You didn’t say anything, instead focusing on your food. You just wanted to eat - well, eat and plot the murder. You were still going to do it, you just needed time.

“How long until your dad calls the police?” Now that question grabs your attention.

“What?”

He tilts his head to the side, “We punched him and took his car, Muds. How long do we have until he calls someone about it?”

“We have a while,” you mumble, “He’s an idiot, and he underestimates me pretty easily. He’ll think I’m coming back. I say we have until tonight at least.”

Soon, you finish your food, and 2D looks at you expectantly, “Well? Did you bring any money?”

“I thought you had some?”

“Yeah, and I just spent it all on tag.”

“Shit.”

He wipes the corners of his mouth, “Well, it’s just food. And it’s just a chain. The only rule with these things is that you can’t steal from a locally owned business.”

“Who taught you that nonsense?”

“My dad,” he said, “He’s like Robinhood. He breaks the laws and stuff but he’s also really moral, so I trust him with this stuff,” He stood up and began walking out, not even bothering to wait for you.

You had no choice but to run after him.

“Wow, ‘Dents, I didn’t think you were capable of something like that.”

“I literally swore off a waitress because she told me to stop swearing,” he responded, not even looking at you, “I would hope that you know me better than that, ‘Doc.”

The only other people to ever call you “‘Doc” were people in your family. You considered asking him to keep saying Muds but you didn’t want to seem too invested.

So there you were again, driving. You had no destination or contacts, just each other. When the car ride got boring, you found that you actually preferred having someone to talk to. It was nice.

“We should have sex,” you said out of the blue. At first, he looked at you like you were crazy, but he changed his mind very quickly.

“Alright,” he agreed, his misplaced confidence almost enough to make you laugh, “Take your top off.”

It was your turn to look at him like he was the one who was insane, “I’m driving; that does not sound safe.”

“You’re the same guy who punched your dad and stole his car? Wow...” he drew out the ‘o’ in ‘wow’ just to add emphasis. Groaning, you decided ‘fuck it’ and started taking it off.

Obviously it became difficult to actually do it while driving, but when you asked him if he wanted to stop, he just said no and didn’t provide any assistance at all.

“Keep driving. I can do the work.”

“Can you now?” You asked with a grin, the idea of him doing anything like that laughable, and yet...kind of...admirable.

“Yeah! Just, uh...” within seconds you could feel something on your neck, and it didn’t take long to realize what was happening. You had to resist the urge to shut your eyes. It was all too much, and when you felt his hair brush against your jaw, driving was not an option.

So you crashed. It was an accident of course, but it still happened.

It seemed like 2D didn’t grasp the severity of the situation, because he started laughing, and it made him look like a maniac. Maybe it was the context of what was happening that made him laugh, but you didn’t care. You were both screwed now.

“Why are you laughing?” You demanded, internally freaking out. Your dad loved this car. It was the most expensive thing he’s ever bought - not that you cared about him. He was an asshole. But what would you do without a car? 

Die, probably.

You didn’t have the time to grab your shirt. The smoke was too much of a sign that something bad was about to happen, so you jumped out of the car and he followed.

He gulped, “What are we gonna do now?”

“Do you think it’s gonna explode?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s not a film,” he paused, “Come on. Let’s go.”

You grabbed him by the wrist before he could get too far, “No, no! I can fix it. We can’t just leave it here—“ before you could even finish your sentence, you hear it exploding behind you.

He smiles sarcastically, “Do you reckon you can still fix it, Muds?”

To be honest, you’d forgotten for the past while what you originally got close to him for. But when he acted like this, it was the opportunity to remember. You wished you could dig your nails into his skin right then, peel his arm like a banana, but he’d probably start screaming.

You can’t kill him right now, but you really wanted to, which was unfortunate.

-

Before long, you ended up at the side of a road. Murdoc was standing on the edge of it with his thumb out, trying to get a car to stop. You actually found it quite stupid - nobody was going to stop for two weirdos except for other weirdos.

“Why isn’t anyone stopping?” He complained.

“Probably,” you began, “because all you look like to anyone else is some green idiot without a top and a hickey on your neck.” You didn’t really want to push his limits, but this was an annoying situation.

“Which is all your fault, might I add.”

“You’re the one who suggested we have sex in the car!”

“And you’re the one who decided we shouldn’t stop!” He yelled back, the volume enough to make you flinch.

Instead of helping him out with trying to get a ride, you pulled your jacket tighter around you. It wasn’t too cold out but the jacket brought with it comfort you haven’t had in a while. Somehow after all these years it still smelled like your dad.

Finally somebody stopped. The man inside the car seemed mid-to-late sixties and the only memorable thing about his features was a beard. He didn’t look like there was any hair under his hat.

“I’m going down south, if it’s any help to you,” he told Murdoc, who eventually nodded and motioned for you to join them. Reluctantly, you did. You had a bad feeling about this guy, but you didn’t want to be stranded.

The inside of his car smelled like alcohol and feet. Murdoc sat in the front, and it made you feel like he abandoned you. You wanted to be able to hold his hand, to force him to say that things were alright, but you weren’t going to do any of that if another person was too present.

“Give us that sweater in the back there, luv,” the man said, “for your boyfriend.”

“Who said he’s my boyfriend?” Sometimes you were a prick, but you assumed Muds was used to it by now.

He smiled at you through the rearview mirror, “Well, uh, the mark on his neck says a lot, eh?” Now you weren’t as mad as you were embarrassed, and to avoid it, you threw the sweater to the front.

“Is he alright?” He asked Murdoc, who just shrugged.

“He’s fine,” you responded for him, putting your feet on the seat and pulling your knees to your chest. You wanted to curl into yourself.

Murdoc decided to change the subject, pointing at a picture that was taped to the cooling system, “Is that your dog?”

“Almost,” the man replied, “I’m actually going to pick her up right now. She’s cute though, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“Not for long, mind you. She’s a cane corso.”

“What’s that?”

He grinned, “Number twenty-three on the Top Twenty-Five Most Dangerous Dogs list. She’s built for fighting.”

“Are they expensive?”

“Jus’ a bit. Worth it, though. One of m’lads had a few back in Fallujah.” You wanted to tell the both of them to shut up because the noise made your mind swirl, but you couldn’t form a sentence.

“You were in the army?” Murdoc asked.

“Five years.”

“Cool.”

He changes the subject again, “So tell me: what have you two been up to?” The way he stared at you through the mirror made you want to scream, but he wouldn’t give you the chance, “Come on! I ain’t gonna say anything.”

“We haven’t done anything,” answered Murdoc, visibly uncomfortable with the turn of the topic.

“You don’t have to lie to me, son,” the man says, “I’m not a fucking copper. I’m just, you know, trying to make conversation!”

There’s a pause, but then he goes on, “I just thought...maybe you might want to make a call to your mum or something.”

“My mum’s dead actually,” and then, it was Murdoc’s turn to look at you through the mirror. You felt stupid, and at the same time, like a monkey in a cage. It was like everyone was staring at you. They’d point at you if they wanted to.

-

2D didn’t talk much during the car ride, and didn’t until you were seated across from each other at a cafe on the side of the road, and the man was off getting drinks.

“I thought you said your mum was in Japan?” He asks, though it seemed more like a statement. It made you feel like a criminal - which, technically you were.

“So?”

“Well that’s a bit different from being bloody dead, innit, ‘Doc?”

There came that feeling again, of wanting to snap his wrists. He was pushing how far you were willing to go, and that wasn’t good when it came to people like you.

Then came a sudden shift in his expression that made you change your mind. He turned from angry to sad and vulnerable, like he was about to cry or something. He didn’t, but it looked like he wanted to.

“I don’t like him,” he admitted, “He gives me the creeps.”

“Why?” Honestly you thought the man was quite nice. He’d picked you up when nobody else had, and he let you have one of his sweaters. It made you feel a sense of being wanted that you haven’t felt since...ugh.

You found that 2D liked to whine with no reasoning why he did it. He never gave you a reason for why he didn’t like the guy, which was just plain not fair to both him and you.

He came back with tea and biscuits, enough for you each to have around five. As hungry as you were, this was the first time in years that you ate without caution. You trusted him.

His wallet was face-up on the table, and in it you could see a picture of three people you assumed to be his family.

2D beat you to saying anything, “Is that your family?”

He nodded and pointed at their faces one-by-one, “That’s the missus, Eliza, Daphne, and baby Perry.”

“Perry looks like a potato,” he said. When you and the man looked at him, he held it up to your face, “He does though, doesn’t he?”

Your expression twisted into a combination between a grimace and a look of ‘stop embarrassing me,’ “No.”

He huffed and slammed the wallet back down, folding his arms and looking down at the floor. He stayed like that for a moment, before standing up and leaving.

“He’s a bit daft now, ain’t he? The bloke?”

“Yeah,” you responded, “He acts out like that sometimes for no reason but for attention. I wouldn’t mind him much.”

“I’m sure there’s more to him than that, son. He’s probably going through something.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” if there was one thing you knew, it was that you couldn’t have been more wrong. 2D was going through something, but you refused to admit it. You just wanted to kill him and get it over with. If you waited much longer it would never happen.

-

You were seated alone outside. It was getting quite dark at that point, but you didn’t mind. You preferred this to whatever was going on inside. That man creeped you out and you didn’t want to be near him longer than you had to.

Still, you felt bad for leaving Murdoc in there. You knew something was going on, but you just couldn’t explain it.

There were times wherein you knew you should apologize to people, but it didn’t come easy, just like every other part of your life.

Sighing, you stood up and walked back in. The problem came when you saw that neither of them were at the table, but you just figured they were in the toilet. So then you went back there.

-

Sometimes you just...let things happen to you, even if you didn’t want them to. You suppose that’s how you ended up in the bathroom with this man you just met forcing you to touch him.

“What’s going on?” You heard a terrified voice behind you, and thanked Satan for bringing him back, because immediately the grip on your hand was released and you could run.

2D didn’t seem angry with you, but instead at himself for leaving. The man tried to slip past him but he grabbed him by the wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“The dog won’t collect herself, will she?”

He gulped, “Give me your wallet.”

“What?”

“Your wallet,” he repeated, “give it to me.”

“...No.”

His expression turned sour, and you could just tell that somebody was about to start yelling. You hoped it would be 2D. You were rooting for him this time.

“Give me your wallet, or I swear to fuck, I will go to your house and tell Eliza and Daphne and your weird potato baby about what you like to do to teenage boys in toilets.” 

“You wouldn’t do that,” he lifted his hand to pat him on the head, but ‘Dents was a bit quicker than he was.

“I’ll tell the police, too!”

Grumbling, the man reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, shoving it into 2D’s hand and leaving. Satisfied, the two of you took each other by the hands and walked out.

You sat outside for a while out there, trying to register what exactly had happened in the toilet. He’d put your hand there, but it didn’t stop you from feeling dirty.

“He put my hand there.”

“You know, if you want to stop people from doing bad things to you, you can just fight back.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“So why did you let him touch you? If you knew it was wrong then—”

You cut him off, “I don’t know.”

He looked at you for a brief moment, but the moment was over before it could truly begin, and soon, he was standing up, “I’m tired.”

You’d found yourselves at a hotel a few miles from the cafe. You had money now, so finding a place to sleep was the least of your worries.

“A double room?” The clerk asked, seemingly skeptical.

“Yeah,” you almost expected more from him, but then again, you were used to being disappointed. It wasn’t like every question needed a complicated, snarky response.

She handed you the key and you were off on your own again.

-

You didn’t know why, but you found yourself needing to cry. You needed to let everything out that you’d been holding in. You felt gross.

“Do you want to watch TV?” Murdoc asked, holding up the remote.

“Okay,” you paused, “Find some porn. Maybe it’ll keep the workers out.”

Every part of you wanted to collapse, to hug him close to you and tell him everything you’d been feeling. There was one part of you that was smarter than that, though, and that part was telling you to go somewhere private.

So you stood up and walked away, ignoring him when he asked you what you were doing. You walked into the bathroom and locked the door, curling up against the wall farthest from him.

You cried. You let all of your anger, all of your frustrations out, finally feeling the release of everything being out in the open. You didn’t really let yourself go much, and sobbing just felt good.

-

This was your moment. You were situated right beside the door, knife to your chest. He would come out at any moment, and you would get him. This would be so satisfying.

Well, that was until you heard quiet sniffling. You didn’t like it, the way that hearing him cry made you feel. You weren’t supposed to get too close to him, and yet here you were. Shit.

Hearing him get up, you ran back to the bed and tucked your knife back into its holder. You could wait. He was having a tough time.

He came out rubbing his eyes, and you pretended to think he was just tired, even though you knew the truth.

“I’m going to the vending machine.”

“Okay.”

-

You weren’t actually going to the vending machine, but you needed a good reason to walk out without telling him that you were planning on using the phone. Part of running away was cutting contact, but that was hard when you were imagining your mum crying thinking about you.

Jasper picked up the phone, “Hello? Is that you, Stuart?” You could see his stupid smile and his stupid eyes in your mind, “It is you, innit?”

“I want to talk to my mum.”

There was a moment of hesitation, but then, “She doesn’t want to speak to you right now. What you did really—” you hung up.

-

“I can’t go home,” 2D said once he was back, staring at the TV, “Like, ever...can you turn it off now?” You nodded and turned the ‘show’ off.

He looked at you, “You can go home if you want to, Muds.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do you want me?”

“What?”

“Do you want me,” he paused, visibly shaking at that point, “or do you just go along with everything?”

You couldn’t tell him the truth, obviously, but what if whatever you said was the actual truth? What if you did have a soul and weren’t a psychopath?

“I want you.”

He turned away from you, “I’m going to my dad’s. You can come with me if you want.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you could tell there was something else he wanted to say, but it took him a while, “Murdoc?”

“Mhm?”

“Will you cuddle me?”

You knew that people who were in love cuddled, so you did that, just like how you tried to go on a date with him. You laid behind him, putting your arms around his waist and head in the crook of his neck. 

This wasn’t something you were used to doing but you’ve seen it be done on TV before so you knew how it worked. It wasn’t that hard to figure out anyways.

-

His hair was really soft, which was weird because from afar it usually looked greasy. Well except for that time in the diner yesterday. It looked soft that time.

He fell asleep before you did. The breath on your neck grew softer but was still enough to make you feel something. At this point, he felt more there than he’d ever had before. Was he getting better?

Only one way to find out.


	4. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they stop at a house for the night, and figure out some off-putting facts about the owner.

You were woken up the next morning by Murdoc pulling at your sleeve. Apparently you’d moved in the night so you were next to each other, which provided a good view of his face.

“Hey,” he said when he noticed you were finally awake. Sometimes, he seemed like the kind of bloke you could love. Then, other times, he felt like a total stranger.

When you left, the clerk charged you extra for a late checkout. You almost called bullshit since you knew for a fact she said you had until noon, but you decided to just give her the thirty pounds and move on.

“We could get a train to your dad’s,” Murdoc suggested once you were out.

“Maybe.”

You were worried that he wouldn’t want to see you, that there was a reason why he left besides your mum. What if you just weren’t good enough for him? What if he resented you for tearing his family apart?

“Are we still going there?”

“Yeah, obviously,” you replied, trying not to be snippy with the one person who stayed with you, “We should lie low for a few days, though.”

“Why?”

You stopped walking to look at him, straight in the eyes, “Murdoc, we just robbed a guy.”

He took you by the hand and continued walking, “He assaulted me.”

“It doesn’t matter and you know that. We need to go off-grid for a bit.”

“Isn’t your dad’s off-grid?”

You finally snapped, “Why are you so bloody obsessed with my dad?”

“I’m not,” he defended himself, “I just think that we need to get somewhere safe, okay? This is obviously putting you in a lot of stress, so—”

“He’s miles away,” you interrupted, “We need to find somewhere close-by. Somewhere nice, preferably. It could be like a mini-break, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

-

The route soon turned into rows of houses, and in front of you was a wall of bushes. Without thinking, 2D walked straight through one of them into somebody’s garden.

He began walking alongside the pool and straight to it. You thought he was an idiot, but you suppose you weren’t really doing anything for your case.

You thought about how easy it would be to push him in the pool and drown him. You noticed then that the visions you had of killing him slowly became less graphic, and that scared you.

“How do you know?”

“What?” He turned to look at you.

“How are you sure it’s safe?”

He shrugged, then looked at the walls of the building, “There’s no obvious security system. Dust’s everywhere, so there’s probably no cleaner to worry about,” he led you to the front of the house and pointed at the mailbox, “Post. At least a week’s worth.”

“Is breaking and entering the best way of lying low?” You asked as he took a rock to a window and threw it.

He didn’t answer.

The house was fairly big. It looked like the kind of place that would only be owned by a rich person. It was definitely bigger than your home, which was refreshing in a weird way.

2D found a picture sitting on one of the counters, “I think that’s him, the guy who lives here,” he said. 

You moved to stand next to him, and he was holding it. The man who owned the house appeared slim, with dark brown hair and a mustache. He was actually quite creepy.

“Weird,” you mumbled, walking over to the bookshelf and picking up one of the many copies of a certain one. On the back was the same picture as the one in the frame.

“It’s insane having a picture of yourself,” he concluded, sitting it back down.

The two of you continued to look around, and soon you could hear something like a cabinet opening.

“Hey, look what I found,” he said with a grin, holding up two different bottles of something alcoholic. You weren’t the type to drink anything fancy, but it was better than drinking water.

-

You sometimes wondered if you should just become an alcoholic. Your mum and Jasper would let you drink sometimes but it was never excessive. Becoming one would always make sure you had something to focus on aside from your stupidity.

“I’m hungry,” you told Murdoc, “Let’s see if this wanker has anything good, eh?”

He ended up making the two of you an entire meal, and you ate it by the pool. It was actually quite good, which surprised you since you wouldn’t peg him as the type that was able to cook.

“Thank you,” you sat your plate down on top of his, “How did you learn to cook like that?”

“I taught myself,” he laughed, though you knew it was just sarcastic, “It was either that or type two diabetes.”

You smiled, “We should wash up.” It turned out that ‘washing up’ was just throwing the dishes into the pool and walking away.

-

Neither of you knew how to have a good time in a house that wasn’t yours. At the moment, you were both seated on the couch, holding hands, with his head on your shoulder. It was calming.

“Can I sing for you?” He asked. You figured ‘why not’ and agreed. There was no way for him to be worse than you were at it.

_I will always think about you  
That’s why I’m calling you back  
On my way through_

You tried to avoid thinking of how pretty his voice was, and instead interrupted, “What’s that from?”

“It’s my own,” he admitted, “I get bored sometimes and write lyrics down. I don’t have much of this one.”

“What’s it about?”

He hesitated, but responded, “It’s about missing someone who’s gone.”

“Your dad?”

“N—Yes. Yes, it’s about my dad,” you could barely catch the small hint of doubt at the beginning, but you did. There was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t mind at all.

-

You thought that Murdoc was beautiful. He had nice hair, much nicer than yours, which essentially looked like a blue mop, and you liked how his eyes were different colors. It created interest. The sweater he was wearing made him look calm, too, which was much different than his usual dark attire.

At first you didn’t like the thought of getting close to somebody who could hurt you, but he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t do that. He was the only one who stayed through all of your nonsense.

With all this in mind, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He was interesting, and beautiful, and genuine. But he had a hard time showing emotion, so you had to start basically everything.

“Muds?”

He looked at you, “Yeah?”

You took that as an opportunity to kiss him again. It was your fifth overall, and you hadn’t been able to do that in a while, so it felt nice.

Right then, in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to finish what you started in the car. It was the perfect opportunity. So, you pulled away and moved your face down to his neck. You could hear his breath hitch.

The mark from the day before was still there, and you focused your hardest on spacing the new ones out. At one point, pieces of his hair brushed against your forehead, and it made you smile against his skin. You felt...comfortable.

“‘Dents?” He mumbled, “2-2D?”

You leaned up and faced him, “What? Are you okay?”

“Could you stop? Please?”

“What?”

He pointed off in the distance, “He was throwing me off.” You followed his finger and landed on the picture you’d picked up before. You were unsure why, but it made you angry.

You stood up, “I thought you said you wanted me.”

“I do,” he insisted.

“Liar!” There was no way that he actually was being thrown off, right? He just wanted you to stop without seeming mean. If he had just told the truth you wouldn’t be mad, but here you were, mad.

Another person who would rather lie to you than trust that you’ll believe them.

You stormed off. In the background you could hear him calling for you, but you were too focused on getting away. At the moment all you needed was a walk.

-

You tended not to feel things, and you’d been doing alright at it. Somehow, though, 2D had managed to stop that instinct. You cared about him, whether you wanted to admit it aloud or not.

He would come back, you knew that much. And when he did, you would be there waiting for him. Not with a knife, but with flowers. You could always kill somebody else.

-

The walk didn’t look much different from the walks to and from school. It was just houses; nobody was out at the hour.

You stopped to stare at a dead bird on the sidewalk. It made you think about death. Did you want to die a virgin? No, but as things were going Murdoc wasn’t going to get you much farther.

“Don’t look at that,” someone advised. You looked up at the guy. He was across the street, and sounded American. He probably didn’t grow up in England.

Before long he was walking with you. It made the silence feel much more comfortable.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“Seventeen.”

“No way.” 

You showed him your ID. He observed it closer than you would’ve liked, but who cares? “You look better in person,” he told you.

“Screw off,” but you knew it was true. You remembered how your mum would always say that it was your ‘secret weapon.’ You actually found that quite rude but could see her point.

“So what’s your name again?”

“Stuart,” you said, “but some people call me 2D. You can too if you’d like.”

He smiled, “Cool.”

“What’s yours?”

“Russel,” he said quickly, “Sorry if I’m talking too fast. I’m an idiot like that.”

You stopped walking, and he almost didn’t notice, but when he did, he stopped too. This was the first good look you’d gotten of him. You didn’t see the same things you saw in Murdoc, but this would do.

So you kissed him too.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

He laughed, “No.”

“Cool,” you mumbled, “Neither do I.” Was this cheating? You weren’t sure, but Murdoc had never called you anything too specific so he’d basically given you up. It would be okay.

You took him back to the house. As long as the actual owner didn’t show up you would be okay, and since he hadn’t been there for a week or so you assumed he wouldn’t show up now.

When you entered the room, you slammed your jacket down and tried to avoid looking directly at him - or, really, either of them.

“Murdoc, this is Russel,” you told him, as straightforward as possible, “We’re going upstairs to have sex.”

You tried to ignore him and the flowers he was holding. If you didn’t ignore him you would run back, and you were trying your best not to run back to anything nowadays.

Russel had been fine until you walked into the bedroom, “This isn’t being filmed, is it?”

“Good god…”

“I’m serious! Are you actually underaged and someone’s gonna leap out of the closet like ‘catch a pedophile’!”

You must’ve found stupidity hot.

-

2D had thrown you a curveball, but you knew this whole thing wouldn’t last. He wasn’t a runner, and you were happy he wasn’t. You had to bide your time, so you decided to have a look around.

From the cover of his books, you learned that the house owner’s name was Eric. Knowing his name gave you a weird sense of guilt, but at the same time, what Eric didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

You opened one of his cabinets and pulled out a box, which was labeled ‘photos.’ Maybe they were of his family. That’s how you would get by. You wanted to know what a true, happy family looked like.

There was no way for you to have been any more incorrect.

-

“You’re cool, 2D,” Russel said, his face buried in your neck, “Like, really cool.”

“Thanks,” you responded, although you knew it was no good. This isn’t what you wanted, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself. You knew what you wanted: Murdoc.

You sat up, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

He sat up as well, “That’s alright. Do you want to talk about it?”

This may be your only chance to, so you nodded, “The guy downstairs - his name is Murdoc, in case you forgot - he kind of...hurt my feelings, so I used you as a rebound.”

“What did he do?”

“He asked me to stop, but when he told me why it felt like he was hiding something, so I got upset. I guess I shouldn’t be talking since I just asked if we could stop. I sound like a bloody hypocrite.”

He put a hand on your shoulder, “‘D, what I think you need to do is, one, get your pants back on, and two, go talk to him. I can tell he likes you.”

“You think? What if he’s lying?”

“Isn’t there only one way to know for sure?” He asked, standing up, “I’ll keep in touch, yeah?” He ripped a small piece of paper from the notepad on the side table, and wrote something on it, “Here’s my number. If you need me, call me.”

You weren’t sure if you should tell him you didn’t have a phone, but before you could decide, he was gone. Even though the bed under you wasn’t yours, you couldn’t help but collapse. Part of you wanted to cry, and that part won. All you could do was lay there and sob, as if something inside you had died.

-

Russel came down the stairs not long after you’d shoved the photos back into their box. He looked at you in a way that told you he knew a lot.

“I’d give him a bit,” he said, “but you should talk to him. He’s going through a lot at the moment.”

“Okay,” you paused, “Okay, I will.”

It was hard to ‘give him a bit.’ You wanted whatever this was to be over, and you wanted to be on at least decent terms with him again.

You knocked on the door, “‘Dents?”

“Go away, please.”

You didn’t leave, but you did sit down in front of the door. All you had was a copy of Eric’s book, but it had to do.

You waited until he fell asleep. Something you noticed was that when his eyes were closed, 2D showed barely any emotion. He was just...asleep. 

Laying down beside him was something you wanted, but knew was a bad idea. So instead, you laid on the floor and stared at his hand, which was hanging over the side.

Slowly, you reached up, gently touching his fingers. He was delicate, and his skin was soft. It didn’t seem to you that this was the same person he was earlier.

It occurred to you then that you were in love. Sure you’d realized that you cared for him but never before had it felt like love. It made you feel like an idiot.

Then the moment was over. Somebody else was in the house. Eric was home.

You rolled under the bed. Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you and 2D would be okay and the noises were all just in your head.

The hopes were crushed when the door opened and you could see legs behind 2D’s hand. You were basically dead.

-

The light flicked on, and you woke up. In front of you wasn’t Murdoc, but instead, the man in the picture. Fuck.

“How did you get in here?”

Your breathing quickened and you could feel yourself shaking, “I’m sorry...”

It was only then that you saw the rod he was holding. He put it down, “It’s okay. You just...gave me a shock, that’s all. Are you in trouble? Did you need somewhere to stay?”

You didn’t answer, and he sat down, “It’s alright. Are you on your own?”

At that point you were unsure if Murdoc had left. You would deserve it if he had.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. You made a bit of a mess downstairs, haven’t you?” He moved to put a hand on your knee, but you put yours down first. This guy was creepier than the man you and Murdoc had met yesterday.

He smirked, “Have you been eating my porridge as well, Goldilocks?” You were frozen in time, unsure of what move he would make next. You wanted to cry; no, you wanted to scream.

“Please don’t...” you mumbled as he placed a hand on your lower back, slowly moving it up your shirt.

You flinched once he made it to the dead center of your back, but he didn’t stop. His other hand moved to hold your leg down, “Come on, don’t make this difficult!”

“Leave me alone...please. I’ll leave if you want me to but—”

“Are you a virgin?”

You thought it’d be best to lie, “No.”

That only made things worse, because the second he got confirmation he slapped you across the face and pinned you down. All you could do at that point was scream, and maybe, if you were lucky, somebody would hear you.

-

“Please! Please let me go! Stop!”

The various screams ended up being muffled by tissue, but from under the bed you could hear a surprising amount. Your instinct was to jump out, to protect him, to make sure that Eric stopped hurting him. But you were glued.

However there was one scream that you took as an invitation, and although it was muffled, you could hear it clear as the day: “Murdoc!”

You stabbed Eric straight in the neck. He stood up and tried to fight back against you but he collapsed the second he stood. 2D, although he was covered in blood and shivering, looked relieved.

But also horrified.

You helped him up and the two of you stood there, staring at the man below you - he was surrounded in a pool of blood. You killed him.

“Are you actually a virgin?”

He spit out the tissue, coughing, “Yeah.”

You inhaled, happy, only because he was safe, “I am too.”

“Yeah, no shit!”

So there you were, knife in hand. Next to you was your...boyfriend(?), who was covered in blood and trembling. In front of and below you - a dead man.

Fuck.


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops!

“Should we go to the police?” Murdoc asked, and you almost considered punching him. You would’ve if he hadn’t just saved your life.

“What?”

He shrugged, “It was self-defense.”

“We broke into his house, Muds.”

“Yeah, and he was gonna hurt you!”

You looked at your feet, “Do you honestly, truly think the cops would believe that? How old are you?”

“It’s the truth...”

“We have to get rid of the body.”

-

You were standing in blood now, trying to lift up Eric’s lifeless body. 2D was helping too, but even between the both of you, you couldn’t do it.

“Dead people are heavier than alive people,” you said, “I read that.”

“Good to know,” he muttered, “We need to clean everything up. If we can’t get rid of him, we have to get rid of us, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were tasked with cleaning the blood off the floor and your shoes while 2D took a shower. The bleach smelled stronger than it usually did. It was intoxicating.

After the blood was cleaned up, you took the rod he brought into the room and sat it back in front of the fireplace. You got the dishes from the pool and washed them, and put all of the alcohol bottles away. Then, you vacuumed.

All the while 2D had basically disappeared. When he returned he shoved a bunch of clothes into your arms.

“Isn’t it a bit fucked up wearing his clothes?” You asked as the two of you watched his sheets burn. There was no way to get the blood out of them.

He snapped his head towards you, “No offense, Muds, but I think the fucked up bit was murdering him.”

Before you left you showed 2D the pictures - all of mostly-naked broads. You didn’t doubt that 2D would’ve been his first bloke, though. 

When he saw them, he told you to put them around him, along with the camera you’d found with them. That had to show whoever found him first that it was an act of defense.

-

It was strange. A lot of times you don’t register the important moments in your life as they happen. You only know that they were important when you look back.

Like, your dad leaving was an ending. So was you walking out of your mum’s garden party. Meeting Murdoc, however, was a beginning, possibly of something awful - really, really awful.

“We need to get to my dad’s as soon as possible,” you told him.

“Okay.”

“He’ll know what to do. Come on.”

After a while of walking, he reached for your hand. You pulled it away, shoving it into your jacket pocket.

“Why didn’t you burn your jacket?” He decided to ask.

“It didn’t have any blood on it.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m not getting rid of it, Murdoc! It’s my dad’s!” It was in that moment that you decided ‘fuck him’ and had the urge to tell him to hold his own hand.

You eventually reached a train station, and it dawned on you then that you’d killed someone - you literally killed someone. How were you still standing?

“We need to change the way we look,” you told him, and he agreed.

He bleached your hair. Your mum always thought you’d look good as a blond, but the moment you saw yourself you missed your blue hair. There was nothing you could do about your eyes, but you figured glasses could help.

As for Murdoc, there wasn’t much that could be done. You simply chopped off most of his fringe and bought him contacts so that his eyes were the same color - basically, you got rid of everything you found beautiful about him.

The last thing you could change was your clothing. There was a lost and found bin at the station. You settled on an ugly Hawaiian shirt and jeans that were just too small, while Murdoc kept the pants he had and put on a black sweater. 

He refused to get rid of his cross necklace, so he just tucked it into the sweater. That was okay. You had a few things you didn’t want to get rid of.

-

You supposed it was fair to say that your disguise wasn’t as effective as 2D’s was. You looked pretty much the same. But the only other option at the lost and found was a Hello Kitty tee-shirt and you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it.

“It’s so quiet here...” he mumbled, and when you didn’t say anything, he looked at you, “Where did you get the knife from? The one you killed him with?”

“My dad bought it for me for my birthday.” There was no sense in lying to him. He knew more than you would ever like him to.

“Oh. Okay.”

—

Russel sat down in front of the two women. He felt threatened but didn’t make it clear. He wanted to get in and then get out; he hadn’t done anything wrong, so there was no reason to be scared.

“Can you tell me why we’ve got your wallet here, Russel?”

“He told me he was seventeen.”

“What?”

“The boy. I don’t know what he told you, but he said to me that he was seventeen. He showed me his ID, I swear.”

“The boy?”

“2D?”

They just looked confused, as if they had no idea what he was talking about, so he had to tell the entire story.

“So let me get this straight,” one of them said, “You met this kid completely randomly yesterday, and went back to the house with him. For sex, right?”

“We never had sex, no.”

“The sex, or lack-thereof, is not why you’re here.”

“What..?”

The other cleared her throat, “The man whose house it was, he was murdered sometime last night. Tell us about the boy. What was his name?”

“Stuart,” He hesitated, “But he told me that he responds to 2D.”

—

“What kind of knife is it?”

“A hunting knife.”

“Oh yeah, because that’s so common where we live,” he snapped, “Who carries around a hunting knife with them?”

You changed the subject, “Are we still going to your dad’s?”

“We should probably eat something.”

Ever since you stabbed Eric, 2D had started being weird with you. You didn’t know why. All you did was protect him, which is basically what he asked you to do. Why would he scream for you if he didn’t want you to take action?

You realized as you waited for your food that he was scared of you now. He was scared that you would hurt him. Luckily you disposed of your knife in the pool filter so you couldn’t do it easily, but he still had reason for defensiveness.

Still, it felt unfair. Up until now, you’d been his protector, and this is how he repaid you.

—

“Did you notice anything distinctive about 2D?”

“He had bright blue hair, and black eyes. Like, no whites at all. Just black,” before, Russel was determined to protect 2D, but now that he could possibly be a murderer...it left a bad feeling in his stomach.

“What was he wearing?”

“Um...a white tee-shirt. Black jeans. Oh, and a brown leather jacket. It’s kind of baggy on him.”

They wrote that down.

“And it wasn’t just him! There was this other guy there, too!”

One of the ladies pointed at the picture of Eric, “This guy?”

“No! He was younger...I think 2D said his name was...Murdoc?”

—

You decided to put on a calmer, more relaxed persona with 2D so that he’d realize that you were still the person you were before.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“What?”

You repeated, “Are you okay?”

“Uh...yeah.”

The persona didn’t work. It quite pissed you off, honestly. Sure he had the right to be upset but how could he sit there and deny that you saved his life?

“What’s the matter?”

His brows furrowed, down far enough that you couldn’t see them due to the sunglasses, “What’s the matter?! The matter is, Murdoc, that last night, you fucking killed someone!”

He went on, “And every time I tried to close my eyes and think of a good memory with you, all I can see is the blood, and his eyes, and you stabbing him! How do you think that makes me feel? Huh?”

“Do you want mustard, too?” You changed the subject now that the food was there.

He seemed to calm down a bit, “On chips?”

“Some people like it,” you shrugged and squeezed some out, and when you looked back up at him, you could see the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

You took this as your chance and reached for his hand, “‘Dents?”

He pulled it back, “I don’t want to hold your hand.”

After that came a moment of awkward silence, and you mentally kicked yourself for thinking things were even starting to be normal again.

“I’m going to the toilet,” 2D said, walking away. You sighed and tried to focus on the chips, and not the nagging feeling of hurt in your chest.

—

The ladies’ names were Ruby and Evelyn, but Russel didn’t know that. He was dismissed before he got the chance.

“His alibi checks out,” Evelyn said, “Eric was murdered between midnight and three in the morning. Russel was with a few friends at that time.”

“Witnesses?”

“Yeah. Three.”

Ruby nodded, “Okay. So what we’re going to do is put out a request for any sightings of, or any crimes involving, two teenagers in the area. We’ll give them a description of the jacket and put the names Stuart and Murdoc into missing persons.”

She hesitated, but went on, “Either those boys killed him, or they may have seen who did.”

—

You waited about thirty minutes before you realized that 2D had left. This was the day that you learned how loud silence could be. While you walked, you thought about how your dad spent his entire life trying to avoid silence, even if it was just by yelling.

When you have silence, it becomes hard for you to keep the emotions out. Everything is suddenly out in the open, and you can’t force it back into a jar like you had been.

Before, you could get rid of silence. You could banish it. But you knew, now that you’d been close to 2D for so long, you couldn’t do that anymore.

You came across a group of blokes playing basketball at a park. You felt numb, and wanted to feel something. This was the same way you felt before you first broke your nose.

“Are you alright?” One of them asked.

You had taken out the contacts by then. They were a reminder of 2D, as obscure as they were.

When the breathing turned to heaving, you couldn’t escape the emotion any longer, “I have roughly a thousand pounds,” you said simply, “If I give it to you, will you beat me up?”

“What?”

You took out the money and put it in his hands, “Beat me up.”

It was only then, after they’d wrecked you, that you realized you were never 2D’s protector. Actually, it was quite the opposite - he was yours.

Now that you’d finally killed a person, you could say for a fact that you weren’t a psychopath.

“Police, please,” you mumbled into a phone, “I’d like to report a murder.”

Wherever he was, you hoped that he was at least okay. One of you deserved to be, and you weren’t, so it had to be him.


	6. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone needs alone time every once in a while!

_“Are you feeling better?” Your father asked your mother, who shrugged._

_“Good,” she said quietly._

_He looked between you and your brother, “So what’re you three getting up to today?”_

_“Can we feed the ducks?” You asked._

_Your brother, who was eight at the time and innocent, like you, smiled, “Ooh, ducks! That sounds fun!”_

_“No, Murdoc,” she gulped, “I already told you no.”_

_“Oh come on, mum!” Hannibal complained, “Can’t you handle ducks?”_

_Your father grinned, “It would be good for you to get out of the house.”_

_“Please?” You begged._

_The room was so quiet that everyone could hear the clock ticking. Eventually she gave up, “Okay...ducks...”_

_When you arrived at the pond, she stopped both you and your brother from getting out, “I want to tell you boys something, yeah?”_

_She waited for you to be listening, and then looked between Hannibal and you, before saying, “I love you.”_

_“I love you too, mum.”_

_You pulled at your seatbelt, “We have to feed them!” You’d never been good at showing emotion, especially not at the age of six._

_She stayed behind as you and your brother stepped out with the loaf of bread. For a moment everything was okay, until you heard splashing, and saw your mum’s car floating in the pond._

_If you’d known about her issues, you wouldn’t have insisted on going. After the funeral, your father went through a huge downward spiral. He went from okay-ish to full-on abusive._

_That’s why Hannibal ran away. He adopted many of the characteristics you hated about your father, so you didn’t bother trying to go with him._

_It only got worse from there._

And here you were now, sitting beside a detective who was interviewing you about the murder you wanted to report. In the broad daylight, telling someone no longer seemed like a good idea.

“Right,” the detective said, “I’m gonna need you to follow me—”

“It was my mum.”

He stopped walking, “Yeah, you just need to wait—”

“She killed herself.”

By then he just sat down next to you. He knew you weren’t going to go anywhere, “Alright. Um, do you want to tell me what happened? Did you find the body, or—”

“She did it in front of me. Me and my brother, I mean.”

“Right, so, when did this happen? Yesterday?”

“Eleven years ago.”

He inhaled deeply, “Yeah, okay. So, here’s the deal: that doesn’t really count as murder. Suicide is a whole different situation, really. I mean, suicide isn’t even a crime...which is...mad, innit?”

You didn’t say anything.

“Do you want to speak to a woman?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Well...because...you know...”

“No?”

“What about your dad? Have you got a dad?” If you said yes, you would be brought back, and you didn’t want that.

You shook your head, “Not really.”

—

Sebastian Niccals was a big man, but Ruby and Evelyn had met many big men before and were no longer scared.

“May we come in?” Evelyn asked.

“It’s about Murdoc, isn’t it? Is he dead?”

He let them in, and they had to navigate through the trash just to make it to the couch. Then, he told his side of the story.

“So let me make sure we both got this right,” Ruby began, “Your son stole your car, then crashed it into a tree and set fire to it. It was found last night. Has he ever done anything like this before?”

He shook his head, “Naw. ‘Doc’s a little prick but he ain’t much trouble.”

“My reports show that you reported him missing the night he ran away. Why didn’t you say anything about the car when you did?”

“I didn’t want him gettin’ in trouble, ya know? Would make a permanent stain on my record as a parent,” he picked at his nails, “He’s a weird kid, and he’s a piece of shit sometimes, but he ain’t bad, you know?”

Ruby looked at his black eye, “Who did that to you?”

“I got in a fight,” he lied, trying to save face, “At the pub. Some blokes.”

“Did Murdoc do it?”

“No.”

Evelyn turned her head to the side, “Is his mum around?”

“No.”

“Is she at work?”

“No. She’s dead.”

“M’sorry.”

He decided to change the subject, “Would anyone like a cup of tea? Kettle’s on, I mean, so...” he could see that it wasn’t working, “Did you find his boyfriend then?”

“Boyfriend?”

“He’s called Stuart, I believe.”

—

You knew it was right to leave Murdoc. He killed the guy, and you didn’t. Why should you have to pay for his mistakes? It was better if you went to your dad’s alone anyways. You wished you didn’t leave him with the money, though.

The rock came like every other twist in your journey — it was huge and you didn’t see it. You felt it, though, and the giant cut on your knee was proof of your stupidity.

You’d really like it if this was some horrendous, murder-inspired fantasy moment where you let your mind wander, but no - you were just an idiot.

“Fuck!” You winced trying to get up. You needed band-aids, or some sort of wrap to put around it. There had to be some sort of store somewhere.

—

“What’s he done?” Jasper asked, clearly irritated at the recent events involving his stepson.

Rachel gulped, “Is he okay?”

“When did you last see Stuart?” Ruby asked. Rachel began to answer, but Jasper did it for her: the answer was Saturday.

He shrugged, “We were having a party and he ran away.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t like handing out canapés.”

Evelyn cleared her throat, “Around what time did he leave?” She asked.

“Around—”

“Could you let your wife answer, please?”

He smiled, “Yeah. He’s not my kid anyways. I couldn’t give less of a shit.” He then left, and the women were left alone.

“Do you know where he is now?” Ruby asked, “Has he rung at all?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Rachel admitted, “Look, what’s this all about?”

“We need to locate your son in connection to a murder. He’s not a suspect as of now, but we still need to talk to him.”

Evelyn finally snapped, “Didn’t you think to report him as missing? I mean, his boyfriend’s dad reported him pretty much immediately!”

“Boyfriend? He...he doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“We’re going to need a photograph of Stuart. Do you have one?” Ruby looked around at all of the pictures - all of them were either ‘aesthetic’ images or pictures of Rachel with Jasper. None of them included her son.

She nodded, “I think I have one upstairs somewhere.”

—

The detective put down his phone and sat down next to you again, “The best we can do for you is recommend social services, alright? Unless you have someone else to look after you?”

All you could think about was 2D. He had been looking after you, and you let him go. You felt stupid; truly and utterly stupid. You shook your head.

“Okay, then that’s what we’ll be doing. So I’m going to need a few details from you, young man.”

He spent a moment trying to find a pen that worked, and you took that as your chance to run. You’d made a mistake by reporting anything.

-

In the films, people on the run always looked hot. You, however, did not. You weren’t sure if it was your ugly bleached hair, your stupid sunglasses, or the giant scrape on your knee, but you knew for certain that anybody who saw you walking into the shop would think you were homeless.

They happened to have bandage rolls sitting on one of the counters. You took them instead of going to the cashier directly to ask where the disposable ones were. Unfortunately you were not slick, and got caught by security.

“What you’ve got there, hm?” He asked, holding out his hands. You groaned and shoved the bandages at him. It wasn’t worth it.

It took him a while to get you into his office, but he’d done it, and it made you feel dumber than you did already.

“Did you take anything else?” You said no, but he still insisted on patting you down. At first the idea didn’t scare you, but when he started reaching for your body, you were shot back into the feeling of being pinned down.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shouted.

He stepped back, “Do you want me to call the police then?”

You finally obliged, sticking out your arms. Immediately his attention went to the mark on your wrist where Eric had grabbed you.

“How did you get that?” He waited a moment, and then, “Are you going to look at me? Hm?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” you told him finally.

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t want to have sex with you, even if you pay me.”

“What makes you think I do?” He asked, defensive, “I have sex with my wife.”

He sighed and sat down, and you felt even more stupid. You were like a toddler, slowly learning what you could and couldn’t say to people.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“I’m going to file a report, and then I’m going to call the police.”

“The police?” No no! Not the police, anybody but them!

He nodded, “You’re a thief.”

The radio on his desk started going off, _“Eli? Some bloke’s lost his kid. Little girl. Five years old.”_

“I’m busy. Can’t you handle it?”

_“I’m at the end of my shift.”_

“Fine, okay. I’m coming,” he turned his attention back to you, “Stay here.”

It was his turn to look stupid. He’d left you there with the door open and the bandages on the counter. You picked it up and wrapped it around your cut, tucking the end in.

As you walked out, you snatched a pair of long, pink socks. The economy wouldn’t suffer too bad if suddenly a roll of bandages and a pair of pink socks were stolen.

-

You knew that 2D was probably long gone by then, but there was no reason for you to stop. It seemed important to at least try to find him again.

So you sat down at the same diner, at the same table you’d been at the day before. In your head you could hear him telling you that he didn’t want to hold your hand.

Whether you liked it or not, you were in love, and apparently, this is what love sometimes felt like.

-

You decided that if Murdoc were with you, he’d be shitting himself. He liked to act tough but he was also a coward, and probably would’ve begged you not to take something else.

Then again, he probably would’ve used his own shirt to tie around your scrape. He was weird like that.

You stopped at the side of the building to change your socks. The other ones were sweaty and gross, and the new ones were soft. Plus they matched your shirt better.

As you walked, you considered the chances of Murdoc being dead. He might actually be dead. He saved your life and you abandoned him. 

The only option was to go back to the diner, so you did just that. It wasn’t like you expected him to be there, but the chances were greater of that happening than they were of you seeing him again if you didn’t.

Surprisingly, he was there. He waited for you, and that made you feel weirdly wanted - loved.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” You sat down.

“I lost the money,” he admitted.

“I didn’t come back for the money,” you mumbled, “I’m sorry I left you.”

He bit his lip, “I’m sorry I killed him.”

“I’ll never leave you again.”

“Okay.”

“We should probably go to my dad’s now, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You put your hand on the table for him to hold, and he did just that. You reveled in the warmth it brought, not just physically, but also emotionally. You wanted to kiss him, but didn’t.

This was another one of those beginnings you’d been thinking about.


	7. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a couple of guys being dudes (poorly written)

Once you’ve committed murder, other crimes seemed so much easier. For example, hot wiring the car you found in the diner’s parking lot.

“How did you know how to do that?” 2D asked as the two of you drove off.

“Practice,” you answered, “I know how to do a lot of things.”

He smiled, “Like what?”

“Build a den. Taxidermy. Make yoghurt,” you threw a sideways glance his way, trying to focus more on driving than anything else. The last time you let your guard down, the car exploded.

He put his hand on your knee, and that in itself made your heart flutter. His touch was so...calming.

“My dad will love you.”

The radio in the car you stole was broken. There was only one CD, with only one track that didn’t skip. It was okay - the song was pretty good. It did get tiring after a while, though.

“Do you feel bad about what we did?” He asked, pulling at the collar of his shirt, “To Eric?” You were pleased that he’d started to use the term ‘we’ in the situation.

“He was attacking you,” you decided to say. The memory of hearing 2D scream made your blood boil, and you swore to yourself never to let anyone make him feel that way again.

The hand that was on your leg twitched slightly, “Yeah, and...those girls,” he gulped, “in the photos...”

“Yeah.”

“We did the world a favor,” his nervousness turned quickly into cockiness, “If I were the police, I’d give us medals or something.”

Newsflash - they didn’t.

You stopped sometime during the night so that the both of you could get a proper sleep. You slept in the backseat, him laying on top of you, your fingers interlocked. 

Until you fell asleep, you used your other hand to play with his hair. The bleach had made it considerably less soft, but it still felt nice.

When you woke up, you went straight back to driving, and left him in the backseat to get more sleep. Neither of you had a license but you at least had experience, so you wanted to be the driver at all times.

“Oh, shit,” you mumbled, noticing that the tank was almost empty. There was a station not far from where you were, so it turned out fine.

You made a plan. ‘Dents would fill up the tank and you’d keep the car running. As long as nobody saw you you’d be alright.

“You’ve really come out of your shell, you know,” he said. At the moment, you were still in the driver’s seat and he was standing outside your door.

“Huh?”

He grinned, “It’s hot.”

That’s the story of how you and your boyfriend(!) ended up making out at a gas station. Number six.

-

Murdoc was kind of stupid. He’d parked at the wrong pump, so you had to take it all the way around the car just to fill-up. That was fine. The problem occurred when the manager appeared at your side.

“Hi! Good morning,” she said.

“Hi...”

“Need a hand?”

“No, it’s alright. Thanks—”

“You can’t fill up with the car running, can you?”

You tried to get Murdoc to shut off the car before she could, but he couldn’t tell what you were trying to say, and soon she was tapping on his window and asking him to turn the engine off.

“Full tank?”

You shook your head, “No. Just a bit.”

“It’s better to be on the safe side, innit?”

“Yeah, sure. Fill ‘er up.”

That’s exactly what the woman did. She filled up the entire tank, and then turned to you, “Let’s go inside and pay, shall we?”

You felt trapped, and could feel your legs start shaking. As you walked with her, you turned to Murdoc, who looked at the very least, worried. He was your only backup.

“This young man would like to pay for pump number seven,” she said to her employee. Her hand was uncomfortably close to your wrist. You knew if you made one wrong move she’d grab you.

“Do you have a toilet?” You asked.

She could see right through you, “No.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“We don’t have one.”

The employee looked confused, “We do.” She gave him a look like ‘shut up.’

“Do you want me to wet myself?”

She smirked, “Do you want me to call the police? They might be interested to know where your car came from.”

Panicking, you started moving, “I need to use the toilet—OW!”

-

She had him pinned against the counter, and you could tell it was digging into his stomach. He was in pain, and you’d just promised yourself you wouldn’t let that happen. So you grabbed his jacket and got out of the car.

—

“Do you recognize that?” Ruby asked Sebastian, pointing at the knife they had in front of him.

He nodded, “Yeah. I bought that for him for his birthday.”

“Which birthday?”

He pointed at the engraving on the handle, “Thirteenth.”

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn said, “Why on earth would you give a thirteen-year-old boy a hunting knife?”

“He asked for it,” he shrugged, “Actually, he asked for a machete, but I told him that that was a bit full-on, yaknow?”

She inhaled slowly, “This knife has been confirmed as a murder weapon. Our team found it last night in the victim’s pool filter.”

“What? Look - Murdoc is a weird kid, but he’s not a murderer!”

“The evidence says otherwise, Mr. Niccals.”

—

You burst into the station, the jacket covering your hand creating the effect of a gun, “Get off of him or I’ll blow your fucking brains out!”

She pulled him away from the counter, but still had a fairly strong grip on his wrists, and you could sense that he was having...flashbacks, more or less.

“That’s just your hand, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“What type of gun is it, then?” You looked at her like she was crazy, and she continued, “No, I’m interested! My husband owns a couple!”

2D snickered, “You have a husband—?” She kicked him in the back of his knee and he almost collapsed, “—Shit!”

“What kind is it?” She reiterated.

“It’s a Glock 17MB ambidextrous magazine catch, recoil-operated, nineteen rounds.”

You could see a smile start to form on 2D’s face, and for a second you were convinced the both of you were okay. 

She didn’t let him go, though. Instead, she just tightened her grip, and you could see her reaching for the zip ties that - for whatever reason - were on the counter.

Oh, hell no.

You ran at her and she instinctively let go, trying to stop you from shooting her. You and 2D together were able to push her into the back room, and with the employee — Devan’s — help, locked her in.

Devan smiled, “I told you we had a toilet.”

Satisfied, you took 2D by the hand, checking his wrists to see if he was okay. He insisted that he was, and you went to leave. All you wanted was to get out of the building.

-

“Where are you guys going?” Devan asked.

You tightened your grip on Murdoc’s hand, “Why?”

“I’m coming with you,” he said, “I don’t like my life.”

As he started piling snacks into your arms, you kept thinking about how his trust in you was kind of heartbreaking. He saw these rebellious kids, the ones with bleached-but-obviously-still-blue hair and green skin, and decided he wanted that life, too. But you couldn’t let Devan carry your baggage.

“Go start the car,” you told Murdoc quietly, “I’ll get rid of him.”

He nodded and stepped out, taking with him the snacks he could carry. It would be enough to last you to your dad’s, you were sure of it.

“Do you smoke?” Devan asked.

“No.”

“I do now.”

You looked at one of the shelves, “Could you get that whiskey? The expensive one on top?”

“Yeah!”

While his back was turned, it was your chance. You ran out to the car, jumping into the passenger seat, “Drive! Fucking drive, Muds!”

He did, and you were out of there.

It seemed like many of the tensions that came with your stop at Eric’s house were gone, because once you were back on the road, you went back to sucking his neck. He was a lot more open with how it made him feel this time.

“Use your teeth more! What’re you, a baby?” You took that as an invitation to straight-up bite him.

He was, at least in most aspects, beautiful. Even if his fringe was gone, his hair was still soft, too. He could grow it out once you knew you were safe.

—

“We’re sorry we have to do this,” Evelyn told Eric’s mother, “But we’re going to have to ask you more questions.”

Ruby cleared her throat, “Going back a few years, there were a couple of allegations made against Eric by some students. Could you tell us anything about that?”

“Yes,” she said, “I can tell you that it was a long time ago, and all of the allegations have been dropped.”

“We didn’t know—“

“And I can tell you that some young women, rather than admit that their grades have dropped because they’re lazy, or on drugs half the time, would rather accuse an innocent man of sexual assault.”

“No-one would have any reason to do him any harm?”

“I would like it if you two would do your jobs and find whoever murdered my son, instead of trying to blame him for his own death! I’ll see you out—”

“We’ll see ourselves out,” Evelyn said, standing up.

Ruby stopped in front of his mother, wanting to get one last word in, “It’s better to be in charge of the truth. If it were to come out...it usually does in cases like this...”

“Get out.”

—

Murdoc had made you comfortable. He made you feel more like yourself than you ever did when you were alone.

The car was nearing a phone, and you asked him to stop. He did. You had one phone call that you absolutely needed to make.

“Hello?”

“Hi, mum.”

“Stuart! Where are you? What the hell have you been doing? We’ve had the police around here!”

“Just shut up and listen to me.”

“Stu...”

“Mum.”

“Are you...are you okay?”

“You’re never going to see me again. You had the chance to be my mother, but you blew it.” 

“Are you with your dad?”

“No.”

“Come home. Please, Honey...”

You bit your lip, but then decided that you needed one last hoorah, “Tell Jasper I said fuck off,” then you hung up.

-

After a bit more driving, you arrived at his dad’s given address. In your head, you pictured this moment as 2D jumping out to see him, but in reality, he just sat there.

“Are you alright, ‘Dents?”

“Muds, we killed a rapist, turned our back on the law, and I’m about to see my dad again for the first time in nine years. I’m doing fantastic! Come on.”

He led you up the driveway and to the door. In the end he asked you to knock because his hands were shaking from excitement.

A lady opened the door.

Your face dropped, “You’re not his dad.”

He elbowed you in the side, “Hello! Is David in?”

“David hasn’t lived here in months,” she answered, taking a long drag from her cigarette. You could sense 2D’s disappointment without even looking at him.

“Oh. I’m sorry to bother you,” he began walking back to the car, but you refused to take this as it was.

“Do you know where he is now?”

He turned back to look at you, “Just leave it, Muds!”

She thought for a moment, and then nodded, “Yeah.”

—

Eric’s mother had come forward with a video camera containing graphic video of him raping various women. Ruby showed that to Evelyn, but she was still skeptical.

“They still killed him,” she said, “Regardless of what he may have done, or tried to do, they killed him.”

“Yeah, but it could’ve been self-defense...”

“Then they’ll get manslaughter.”

“Come in! Come in. We’ve got the kids’ most recent location.”

Ruby focused her attention on the radio, “Yeah? Where?”

“They robbed a petrol station a hundred miles southeast from here. Held it up at gunpoint, and locked the manager in a toilet.”

“Coming in now.”

—

The lady had given you directions to your father’s new home. She said it was just two lefts, and that he lived in a mobile home by the water.

“What if he hates me?” You wondered out loud, trying not to dig your fingers into your already-scraped knee, “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Maybe it’s really recent?” Murdoc suggested, putting his hand on top of yours, and almost flinching when he realized just how much you were shaking, “Hey, hey...it’ll be alright.”

“No, it won’t. He probably doesn’t want to see me. I bet he despises me. He probably—” you were cut off by Murdoc grabbing your face and kissing you. That made seven.

When it was over, you felt stupid. There you were, your hair bleached with the roots obviously blue, your eyes weakened from the excessive use of sunglasses and tiredness, a stupid mark on your wrist, and a wraparound bandage around your knee.

You were wearing a stupid yellow Hawaiian shirt, dirty blue jeans, long pink socks, and shoes that looked like they’d only be worn by someone who was at least fifty. You were seventeen, and already you were a classic mystery.

And also stupid.

Really, really stupid.

“He’s going to love you,” he told you, trying his best to comfort you. He was the only one lately who was able to truly do that. You thought that, so far, number seven was your favorite.

The car’s engine gave up about a mile from the destination, so the two of you each grabbed a water bottle and set off, hand in hand.

Sure enough, you were led to a mobile home in the middle of nowhere. By then it had grown dark outside, and if this didn’t work out, you were doomed to sleep outside again.

You walked up to the door, and he let you knock this time. It opened within seconds, and with a dumb grin on your face, you said: “Hi, Dad.”


	8. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D reunites with his father!

There was something beautiful about seeing your boyfriend reunite with his father. As you’d expected, David loved 2D, and they began reconnecting almost immediately. You figured you’d give them their space.

“2D? Where did that come from?”

“They call me that ‘cause I got two dents in me head,” he laughed, “Mu’doc over there is the only one who sounds cool saying it, though.”

“What is he? A friend?”

“My boyfriend.”

“Oh. Cool.”

You were prepared to get ‘Dents out of there if his dad had said one bad thing about your relationship. So far he seemed alright about it.

“You turned out alright, didn’t ya?” He commented, “You got your sense of fashion from me, ya know. Did you bleach your hair?”

“Yeah,” he responded, “I don’t like it, though. I’m probably gonna wash it out. It's not permanent, I don’t think.”

“How’s your ma?”

2D shrugged, “Married to a total dick, but otherwise...alright,” he was quick to change the subject, “Can we stay with you for a while?”

“Of course you can! You’re my blood, Stu. Stay as long as you’d like, yeah?”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“So, did ya run away? From your ma?” When he nodded, David grinned, “You’re my blood alright...”

He sighed, “We’re in trouble.”

“The mob?”

“Worse.”

“How much?”

“A lot,” he paused, “We didn’t know where else to go. We don’t have any money, or a car, or anything...”

David put a hand on his shoulder, “Well you’re safe and sound as long as you’re here,” he pointed at the couch, “That becomes a bed.”

“Oh like a fold-out? Cool.”

“No. I meant it becomes a bed when you sleep on it,” he stood up, ruffling 2D’s hair as he did, “I’m just back there, and the bathroom’s in there. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“It’s so good to see you again. Sleep tight, yeah?”

You piled up on the couch, much like you did in the car the night before. This time, though, you managed to stay awake a bit longer, enough for conversation.

“I’m glad we’re here,” he mumbled. His face was so close to yours that mumbling sounded like regular speak.

“Me too,” you put your arms around him, pulling him as tightly onto you as you could. He promised he’d never leave you, but now that David was back in the picture you were unsure if he’d keep that promise.

Before you fell asleep you were able to sneak in another kiss. It was a lot shorter than they usually were; it reminded you of how you thought married couples were supposed to kiss. Either way, it made eight.

The next morning, you woke up and he was gone. You found him outside with David, making burgers. You were glad he didn’t just abandon you, but you also wished he would have woken you up.

-

You didn’t wake him up because you wanted him to sleep. He was exhausted and you could see it. You would’ve stayed with him, but your dad wanted you to come cook with him and you didn’t want to miss an opportunity like that.

“Good morning,” you said when he plopped down in the chair next to you. He just grunted, and it made you think he might be mad. You didn’t want him to be mad at you.

Luckily, the second he saw that you thought that, he changed his entire attitude, “Good morning,” he said in a mutter, putting his hand on the arm of the chair in a way that was so obviously meant for you to take it. So you did.

“So,” Your father began, “how long has this been going on? You two, I mean.”

Murdoc shrugged, “A few weeks. Maybe two months. Three if we’re gettin’ pushy.”

“Oi, Murdoc? Do you want to throw knives with me?”

“What?”

“You’ve never thrown knives before?”

“No.”

“Alrighty then,” he said, “Take your shirt off, yeah? Son, watch the burgers. We’ll be back soon.”

-

David was different. It was a good different; he was a lot cooler than the average adult. He let you get away with things you knew nobody else in your life would.

Knife-throwing was pretty self-explanatory. It was just the two of you throwing a knife at a post, shirtless. Was this the kind of thing that a dad was supposed to do with his son?

It occurred to you then that if you were lucky, David would eventually be your dad too. You wondered if it was too late to have a good paternal figure in your life.

“Are you taking care of him?”

The question snapped you out of your wondering, “Yeah...yeah, of course.”

“Good,” he smiled, “That’s very good.”

He handed you a can of beer and you took it gratefully, needing something to wash down the sour saliva in the back of your throat.

“Did he ever mention me?”

You had never been more certain of the answer to a question in your life - 2D had spent ninety-percent of your trip talking about his dad, “Yeah.”

“Why did he do that to his hair? I mean I was never a fan of the blue but it kind of grew on me...he looks weird blond.”

“Long story,” you were sure that you’d tell him what you did eventually. And when you did, you were certain that he’d lift you into the air and praise you like a god for saving his son.

Or maybe that was just you being egotistical.

—

“Oh no...” Rachel muttered as she watched the video, the one of her son being held by the wrists while his boyfriend held a gun to his captor’s head.

Jasper cocked his head to the side, “Did he bleach his hair?”

Ruby paused the video, “As you can see, your children have committed yet another serious crime.”

“He’s not doing anything!” Rachel yelled, “My son is innocent. It’s all his boy’s fault!” She snapped her gaze to Sebastian.

Evelyn ignored her and turned her attention to Sebastian as well, “Do you know where Murdoc got the gun from?”

“He never had a gun,” he answered, “I would never give him one...he’s only ever had his knife.”

2D’s parents took that as a personal offense, or at least Rachel did, “What the hell is the matter with you?” She stormed out, followed closely by Jasper.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands, “He’ll be eighteen.”

Ruby tossed a sideways glance at Evelyn, “Eighteen..?”

He took out his wallet and showed the ladies a picture of their family - him, his wife, Hannibal and Murdoc, “Look at him...he was so young...she killed herself, his mum. She did it in front of him and his brother.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby said.

—

“I hope you like well done!” You told Murdoc and your dad when they returned. You weren’t the best at using the grill, “Well done...as in...cremated.”

There were only two chairs. Originally, you’d opted to sit on the ground but both of them insisted you didn’t. It felt good being with them, the only two people who cared about you.

You ended up sharing a chair with Murdoc, who was more than happy with the arrangement.

“You should come out on me boat!” Your dad said, digging into a bag of crisps.

Just as you suspected, the burger was the equivalent of a bunch of ashes that were poorly glued together, “You have a boat?”

“Nothin’ flashy, just a little cuddly cabin, but she’s cute. I’ll take us out this afternoon if you want?”

“Cool!” You couldn’t believe your dad had a boat. It basically meant that you’ve got a boat.

-

The three of you were heading out onto the boat when one of his friends arrived. He told you and 2D to wait for him, and that you’d just do it later.

“He will take us,” 2D assured you.

“I know,” you found that sitting in the same chair for an extended amount of time caused your legs to ache, but you didn’t mind. At least he was there.

You put your hand on top of his, and naturally he moved so that your fingers were interlocked. Maybe it would be easier to voice your opinions now that you knew he was happy.

“I think your dad’s a drug dealer.”

“Cool.”

“But—”

“What?” It seemed like ‘Dents was deliberately missing the point.

You sighed, “Is this the best place for us to be staying? We killed a guy...”

He retracted his hand and jumped out of the chair, “No way am I leaving yet! Stop worrying. He's gonna look after us, we’re totally safe here.”

There was a brief moment where you were launched back into your thoughts of killing him, and that unsettled you. Were you that unstable? Was being slightly annoying enough for you to pull a knife out on him?

You hated that that was even a thought that crossed your mind. You didn’t want to have to be the kind of person who has to promise not to kill your loved ones.

One thing you did know, though, is that you weren’t safe there, and you’d be damned if you let anything happen to you or to 2D because you stayed in one place a bit too long.

-

“The beauty of it all,” your dad began, doing some strange stretch, “is that it’s ethical. Everything’s locally sourced. No gang warfare bullshit, no women swallowing condoms, no kids getting hurt.”

You didn’t want to sit by Murdoc, so you were on the ground. He’d started to doubt your trust in your dad, and that scared you. Did he not trust your judgment?

Okay, yeah, maybe Muds was a dick sometimes but...eh, you loved him, and you knew that within minutes you’d be back on the chair swapping spit.

“This world, man,” he went on, “‘Hey kids, don’t do drugs! But beg your mother to buy you the latest iPhone, created with the hands of a modern day slave’! You understand me, don’t ya, Stu?”

“Yeah...”

“You gotta fight the system! I’m serious, because we live in properly fucked up times.”

He stood up finally, looking you in the eyes, “The wisest thing anyone has said to me, alright, is—are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

“What about you, Murdoc? Listening?”

He sighed, “Yep...listenin’...”

“‘To be mad in a deranged world is not madness. It’s sanity.’”

“Who said that?” You asked.

“Me.”

You grinned. Your father was basically Gandhi. You were the child of a modern age Gandhi.

-

David talked a lot.

“So what do you think of him?” 2D asked, his hand around your lower arm. You knew that in situations like this one, it was better to lie.

You nodded, “Yeah. He’s alright.”

“Alright? Just alright?”

“I mean as in...he’s good.”

“You don’t get it.”

By then David was done talking to whoever he was talking to, and was coming back towards the two of you, “Ah, right. Who’s up for a pint?”

“Are we not going out on the boat?” 2D asked, clearly disappointed.

“Ah, son, I’m knackered, do you mind? I’ll take you out tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

He headed towards his truck and ‘Dents followed. You almost insisted on staying since you were certain they’d ignore you most of the time, but then you realized that you weren’t going to stay 2D’s boyfriend by being a total dick.

-

It was so weird. When you’ve wanted something for so long, and you’ve been so frightened that it would be shit, and then...it’s not shit at all. It’s actually amazing.

You and Murdoc sat down at a table. You were completely for the idea of sitting next to each other - his hands were always warm and the pub was cold - but he was the one to sit entirely across the table from you.

“What do ya normally drink?”

“Anything.”

You were so happy here.

—

“You’re sure you haven’t seen either of them?” Ruby pleaded.

The woman took another drag of her cigarette, “I told you no.”

“And David?”

“No idea. He moved out months ago.”

She handed her the card with all of her information on it, “Just in case.”

—

“‘Dents?” You weren’t looking at him, but you tell that his expression had brightened, like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think we should stay here too long. I think we should keep moving.”

The earlier excitement he had to talk to you was gone, and he looked over at his dad who was walking back over, “Do what you want.”

David tossed a few bags of crisps at the table, and held out his hand for 2D to take. You knew exactly what was going on; he’d only been with his father for less than a day but was willing to abandon you for him.

Was that what family felt like?

-

“I missed you,” he said, the soft grip he had on your hands as you danced together tightening ever-so slightly, “Look at how big you’ve gotten! You’re almost taller than me!”

You smiled, as that was all you were able to. Now that he was here, really here, you couldn’t deny that this was what you wanted. If Murdoc wanted to leave, then so be it. He couldn’t see that you were happy, so why should he stick around?

“Hey, let’s do the thing!”

“What thing?”

He lifted you so that you were balancing on his feet, and suddenly you remembered, “Oh yeah!” The last time he’d done this, you barely were up to his shoulders. Now, the extra height made you able to look him in the eyes without effort.

“I haven’t seen you in forever...ten years...” he released one of your hands so that he could wipe his eyes.

“What? Dad, are you alright?”

He sniffed, “I...I’m useless. I’m so fucking useless...fuck!”

“No you’re not!” You stepped off his feet, and went back to the table to grab the cards from your jacket pocket, “You’re not useless! A card every year without fail? I’d say that’s pretty good.”

He took a moment to look at the cards, studying the way every single one was treated carefully, and then pulled you into a hug. Aside from Murdoc, you were unsure if anyone’s ever acted this genuine towards you.

“It’s alright,” you assured him, “It’s alright...”

-

You’d started to feel like you should just go, and leave 2D with his dad. He seemed happier, and already your judgement was deemed less important than his father’s. Plus, at this point you were being left out of pretty much every conversation.

“I’m not even joking!” David laughed, “All year round, just shorts! Say, what did you wear to your ma’s funeral?”

His buddy groaned, “Black shorts.”

This caused both David and 2D to burst into laughter. You didn’t even think it was that funny; even you’d had the decency to wear a suit to your mother’s funeral. This guy just seemed like a prick.

“Dave...Dave!”

All eyes were on this woman who showed up out of nowhere; you think she’s the girl you’d talked to at David’s old house.

“Oh no, please just go home,” David began pleading with her, “Seriously! We’ll only end up squabbling and you don’t want that, do—”

“Come here!”

He walked off, leaving you and 2D with his buddy, who told you quietly that she was a bit unstable in the head. From where you were sitting, you could hear tiny bits of what she was saying, “The police have been by looking for him...are you fucking kidding me...”

You shared a glance with ‘Dents, who was at that point as pale as a ghost. He pointed at the lady, or more at the little boy next to her, and then began walking towards them. You followed.

“I can’t do this on my own...” she complained, “It’s just not fair.”

“Okay, I’m listening. What do you need?”

She looked down at who you assumed was her son, “A new school uniform.”

-

“Why?”

Inside, you were panicking. Was this your dad’s kid? Why wouldn’t he tell you about him? Instinctively, you reached for Murdoc’s hand and held on tight. So far, he was the only person who hasn’t lied to you.

“He’s grown, and he looks like a prick!”

“What do you want me to do?” Your father snapped, “He’s not gonna stop growing!”

“Give me money!”

You decided enough was enough, and looked at the kid, “Is he your dad?” He nodded, and you felt like collapsing.

“No, look, Stu,” David began explaining, obviously unknowing that you’d been standing there, “It’s not like...”

“Were you going to tell me?” You asked, on the verge of tears.

He visibly gave up, “That’s it! This is like a fucking ambush or something, I’m going home!”

Then, he ran out, followed by the woman and her son. You considered following, too, but you lost all of your motivation to keep following him. The only way you were able to walk was by having Murdoc basically pull you.

The scene was a nightmare. David piled himself into his truck while everyone else was screaming at him. When he backed out, you heard a whine from a dog, and it was all you could hear until he was gone.

—

“So,” Evelyn began, “The local surveillance team has set up at his ex-girlfriend’s house. The kids haven’t stopped by yet, but we’ll go out there first thing, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

You and 2D stood over the dog’s body, “Its neck’s broken,” he said, “We have to kill it.”

“Yeah,” you picked up a rock. You’d done this so many times before, enough that you’d figure it would be easy. It was anything but, “...I can’t do it.”

He looked at you, “Are you crying?”

“No,” the whole scene sent you back to before, when you’d intended on killing him. You couldn’t imagine ever wanting to go back now.

He took the rock from your hands and smashed it against the dog’s head. It was horrifying, seeing someone else take part in the behaviors you’d before seen as normal.

It was another wake up call.


	9. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the grand finale to a total shitshow.

Naturally, you didn’t have a way back aside from walking there. David’s girlfriend surely didn’t want to bring you, so this was your only option.

2D had insisted on holding your hand the entire trip, which you weren’t opposed to. You couldn’t imagine the kinds of mind gymnastics he was doing, but you were happy that he was back to caring about you.

You’d stopped on the beach for a while, deciding to rest there instead of going all the way back to the mobile home at once. It was a long way.

The first good look you got of him happened then, as he was staring off at the sunset. It would be pitch black soon.

He was just as beautiful as the first time you realized you loved him. You found yourself staring at his blue roots, thinking about when he sat there singing to you, and how the tops of his hair brushed against your jaw.

It was a lot cleaner then, softer. You knew that when you got away from his dad, you’d find some money and get a hotel - a good hotel, where you both could take a shower. He deserved that much.

Kiss number nine was softer than the other ones, and the second one that you’d initiated. You took it slow, wanting to take in...everything. There was a point where you tried to pull away, but he put his hands on the back of your neck and pulled you back in.

His lips were chapped, but you blamed that on the dry wind.

Obviously you were still a virgin, that hadn’t changed in the three-or-so days since you’d told him. But you think that you’ve seen enough on the TV to know how it went.

-

You were almost giddy when you’d been laid down against the sand. Your eyes would hardly stay open enough to see him; the only way you knew he was still there was by the way he held your arms above your head, and the feeling of his lips on your skin.

It felt nice for a whole ten seconds before your breath hitched and you were launched back into the memory you thought you’d repressed - that of Eric pinning you against the bed and biting your neck so hard you thought he’d bite it straight off.

“Muds...Muds!” He shot up almost immediately, and after seeing the look of discomfort on your face, moved so that he was next to you instead of on top of you.

“Are you okay?”

“Can we wait?” You asked, “Just for a bit? Like, a few days? Is that okay?”

He nodded, “Of course.”

You sat up and put your head on his shoulder. It would be okay; you had your entire lives to do things like that. Plus, you might feel like it tomorrow.

“I can’t believe I’ve got a brother,” you mumbled, feeling like you were going to shatter. Why would he lie to you? “I’ve probably got a bunch of them around the world. I know he’s traveled.”

When he didn’t respond, you went on, “I might have a family in Vietnam or some bullshit...I think I hate my dad more than my mum.”

“Me too,” he said, “I hate both of mine. I definitely hate my dad more, though.”

“Why?”

“Because she died and he didn’t,” he paused, “She killed herself. I was there. I didn’t do anything.”

You put your hand on his knee, “What was she like?”

“Really kind,” he said, “and really sad. She always...found everything a bit much, I think.”

“Muds?”

“Yeah?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

It was like you were right at the edge of the world, and you were safe. Only, you weren’t, “We can’t stay here.”

“Nope.”

You bit the corner of your lip, “But we can’t go home either.”

“No.”

“Let’s just lay down for a bit here and go back in the morning. We’ll get his boat and sail to the other side, see what we do from there.”

He put his hand on top of yours, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles, “Yeah. Alright.”

You ended up falling asleep there. The calming sounds of the water was enough to knock you out. He woke you up at sunrise, and you began your way back to the trailer the way you always did things recently - hand in hand.

It was tough for you to realize, but it was much easier to think someone was the answer if you haven’t seen them in a while, because they’re not really real. They were an ideal. People can’t be answers, they’re more questions.

They were questions like: “Why are you such a fucking useless dad?”

You arrived at the trailer within the hour, and he was still asleep when you made it. Murdoc tried pouring water on his face, but that didn’t work. That’s when you threw a beer can at his face.

“Ah, fuck!” He yelled, sitting up, “Oh, Stuart! You came back, thank goodness. I was worried about you—“

“No you weren’t,” you interrupted, “You ran over a dog, fucked off, and left me.”

“I mean after all of that—wait, I killed the dog?” He laughed, “Bloody hell! I’m sorry, I was shit-faced. Sorry, I’m laughing because it’s horrible, ya know?”

You stopped him, “Can we go out on your boat?”

“What?”

“Your boat. We want to go out on it.”

“Now?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Now.”

“Okay, fine. Just give me, like, ten minutes. I need a shit and a Berocca.”

“You don’t have to come with us,” Murdoc told him. It was the first time he’d said anything since you’d returned, and it made you feel better to know that he wasn’t just going along with everything you were saying.

David turned his head to the side, visibly confused, “What?”

He reiterated, “I just mean...it’ll be cool. I’m a good driver, we’ll have it back by lunchtime.”

“Guys, I may have not seen Stuart in a few years, and I may have just met you, Murdoc, but I’m not a fuckin’ idiot,” he stood up, “So, what’s the plan, then? Sail across the channel? Get jobs at Disneyland Paris? Change your names?”

He looked you straight in the eyes, “So, who did you kill?”

You felt like you were the one who took a knife to the throat, “What?” You could hear your voice crack. How did he know?

“Your faces were on the telly,” he explained, “There’s a reward out.”

-

Fuck.

“Who did you kill?” When neither of you said anything, he went on, “Come on! I’m not, fuckin’, Judge Judy! I’m interested is all. What did you do, Kiddo?” He put his hand on 2D’s shoulder, and you almost told him to stop touching him, but you figured that would sound a bit controlling.

As fast as lightning, 2D bent down and began to reach for the boat keys, but David was faster and grabbed him by the wrist - the same one with the mark on it. You could see him attempt to wiggle out of the grip, but it was no good.

He pushed him back onto the couch, and you rushed over, trying your best to be as close as possible so that when things did inevitably go down, you could be like a shield.

“Just...look, you’re safe here, okay? I promise you—”

“Oh you promise?” 2D laughed, “That means so much—”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” 

He sort of stepped forward and you jumped up, “Don’t speak to him like that!” You didn’t intend on getting up in his face, but that’s how everything turned out.

“Or what? Hm?” He was definitely taller than you, but you were bigger, so he eventually succumbed, “Okay. I’m sorry. Look...I’ll make us tea, yeah?”

‘Dents crossed his arms, “Yeah, okay.”

“What about you, ‘Doc? Tea?”

“No, thanks,” you almost made a big deal over the nickname but didn’t.

“I’m gonna make you tea.”

He shuffled around in the kitchen for a while, “Okay, do you want the good news or the bad news first? The bad news is, I don’t have any milk. Good news is,” he turned back and pointed a box of biscuits in your face, “I’ve got biscuits!”

“Murdoc?” You shook your head, so he turned to 2D, “Stuart?”

“Yeah, alright,” he took one and bit almost half of it in one bite.

David sat down on the couch next to him, setting the biscuits down on the table, “Seriously, son, are you okay? What happened? You can tell me.”

“Why would I trust you?”

He put his hand on 2D’s knee, and you saw him flinch, but David didn’t move even after, “Come on. Granted, I’m not the best...but I’m still your pa. Of course you can trust me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your boy?”

“Aw, shit, because I was embarrassed, okay? Because I felt ashamed,” he hesitated, “He’s called James. He’s eight, and weirdly good at spelling. I’m sorry, I should’ve told ya. Can we please start over?”

You saw the doubt on 2D’s face, the regret - the pain. It made you want to hug him, but you knew that it wasn’t the time for that. Right now you needed to get out of the house.

“There was a man...” he began.

“‘Dents...” you didn’t want him to say anything. If another person knew the exact story, there was another person who could consider themselves a witness.

But he just kept going, “We killed him. He was gonna hurt me...”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he put a hand on his back, and all you could do was watch as your boyfriend sobbed while telling the story about how you committed a felony.

You weren’t sure why you knew, but you did - he wasn’t being genuine. You stepped back into the kitchen, and on the counter was his phone with 999 dialed.

As an impulse, you grabbed it, “I killed him,” you said into it, immediately grabbing both of their attention, “I killed him, and Stuart is innocent.”

You ended the call and slammed it down, looking at 2D, “He called the police.”

“What?” He asked, panicked, standing up. He looked pale, like he’d just seen a ghost, and you realized it was probably because this was the second time that his dad had lied to him.

David began trying to apologize, “Listen, Stu? Stuart, I was trying to protect you.”

“You fucker!” He grabbed a knife and stuck it directly into his father’s leg.

Suddenly the door slammed open, a woman with a gun entering, “Police!”

—

“We’ve found the suspects. The Niccals boy has confessed to the murder.”

Evelyn picked up the walkie-talkie, “Where are they?”

“We’ve tracked the call to Coast Road. Armed units are on their way now.”

—

You gripped Murdoc’s arm for dear life, “Are you actually with the police?”

The woman nodded, and threw her badge at you. Then she turned her attention to David, who was trying to pull the knife out of his leg, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why?”

“The knife’s stemming the blood,” she explained, “Leave it. You’ll be fine, an armed unit is on the way.”

You felt as if you would snap at any moment; not in an angry way, but in a broken way, like you’d been building up to this moment all your life and you were finally about to crack, “What’s going on?” You asked.

“I want to help you alright?” The cop said, “Listen—”

Murdoc cut her off, squeezing your hand and beginning to make his way to the door, “We have to leave, now.”

She shut the door, “No. I can’t let you do that. You have to stop running. It’s better that you hand yourselves in willingly to me, and we can sort out a manslaughter plea.”

He nudged her shoulder, “Please, can you move?”

“No! You have to stop!” She begged, “Especially you, Murdoc. You’re eighteen now. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“What?” You looked at him, “Today? Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gotten you a present or something.”

She went on, “I saw your dad yesterday. He told me about your mum. He showed me the picture of you all, the one in his wallet.”

He shook his head, “He doesn’t have one in his wallet...is he angry with me?”

“No, he’s worried,” she turned to face you, “Your mum is, too.”

“Yeah, right,” you stuffed your free hand into the pocket of your jeans.

“She is!” It was like she was looking into your soul, “Stepdad’s a nasty twat, isn’t he?” You just nodded.

Murdoc tried to get the conversation back on track, “What will happen to us if we do what you say?”

“Nothing too bad, as long as you let me help you.”

David laughed at her, “Yeah, right! Don’t lie to them!” He looked at you, “They’ll lock you up and throw away the key!”

“Mr. Pot, that’s actually not the case here!”

“They will, don’t listen to her.”

You hadn’t snapped yet, but you were about to, “You called the police, David!”

“Woah! I’m trying to protect you!” He thought for a second, and then added on, “From him.”

“What?”

“I’ll go with you,” Murdoc said, “I’ll hand myself in.”

You looked back at him, “What? No way!” It was like you were being attacked at every angle. Everything was beginning to fall apart again.

“Listen, Darling, take it from someone who knows,” David said, “You take after your mum.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have shit taste in men,” he explained, “Take this opportunity to get rid of this one.”

Out of anger, you walked over and kicked his leg, causing him to scream, “Agh! What is wrong with you?”

That was the breaking point. You snapped, and began sobbing, “You want to know what’s wrong with me, yeah? You! You don’t care about me! You don’t give the tiniest shit about me—“

“Of course I care! Of course I give a shit!”

“You shouldn’t just make people if you’re gonna abandon them, because they’ll think they’ve done something wrong their entire lives!”

“Don’t give me that victim bullshit, Stuart! Everyone can do that! ‘I’m anorexic because I was adopted,’ or ‘I cheat on women because I wasn’t breastfed!’ Everyone has a reason for how they behave—!”

Murdoc stepped in, pulling you in by the waist and rubbing your side with his thumb, “What’s yours then?”

“What?”

“Why are you such a prick?” You were reminded in that moment why you loved him so much, and it was almost enough for you to forget what kind of situation you were currently in.

He sighed, “Look, he’s right. I didn’t come back for you, did I? I just kept away, because I thought it would be better for you if you just forgot me.”

“Why did you send the cards then?” You asked, “For my birthday?”

The cop stepped back in, “We really don’t have the time—”

“Just give us a second,” Murdoc told her.

“Did you even send them?” You asked, feeling as if your tears were coming back for round two, “Oh my...was it my mum?”

He shrugged, “She shouldn’t have done it. It was really irresponsible.”

You felt like you were going to pass out, so you leaned back against Murdoc for support, “I feel like I’m going mad!”

“Hey, to be mad in a deranged world—”

“Shut the fuck up!” You snapped, “Shut up! Stop quoting yourself!” You turned back to the cop, “Will we go to prison if we hand ourselves in? Or to juvenile? Will we?”

She took a deep breath, “Probably.”

“We wouldn’t go to the same place?”

“No, but the thing—”

“No?”

“No.”

You picked up the gun you saw on David’s side table, “I’m sorry,” and before she could say much, you hit her over the head and knocked her out.

For a moment Murdoc tried to stop to check for breathing, but the second you got the keys to David’s boat, you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out.

It was good timing, too. There were police cars swarming the area, and all you could do was run.

-

2D had picked the perfect time to run. At first you were scared but with his, probably faux, confidence, you were able to get down the hill and to the shore.

The problem? The water had retreated. You wouldn’t be able to push the boat out that far.

“Shit!” He yelled, jumping as the cops surrounded you. There was only one option, and you were unsure if he would like it or not.

You pulled him so that you were face to face, “‘Dents, say that I kidnapped you. Tell them that I did it all. You’ll be okay. Nothing will happen to you, yeah?”

“What? No way—” you cut him off, pulling him into one last final kiss. It was like your last hoorah before you never saw him again. 

Finally, something was able to make you feel more than breaking your nose, twice, ever did. That thing in question was Stuart Pot, the man you would always regard as the love of your life.

You finally did it - you had learned to count to ten.

You pulled away and pushed him back, taking the gun from his hands. Inside you apologized, but you knew what you had to do. You told yourself that in order to make sure he never again felt the sort of pain he felt at Eric’s house, you had to first knock him out with a gun.

He wasn’t unconscious, but there was no more time. You ran to the dried-up shore, your heart pounding in your chest. As you ran, you could hear 2D yelling for you, screaming with a certain pain in his voice.

Maybe you could’ve carried him. Maybe you could’ve worked something out. But you didn’t want to drag him into your bullshit anymore. You took one look back, and he was pulling towards you as the police handcuffed him. You had no other choice.

Your name is Murdoc Niccals. You just turned eighteen. And you’ve finally realized what people mean to each other. You’re glad that you and 2D were able to have these final moments before you separated forever.

Even as the gunshot went off and you collapsed to your knees, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Maybe you’d see him in another life.

Your name is Murdoc Niccals, and you’ve finally managed to convince yourself that you are not a psychopath.


	10. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guess who’s back, back again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this will actually be the last set of chapters. i cut out a lot, so i hope it still works.

Everyone called you 2D, because you have two dents in your head.

But once you were granted community service and were sent back to school, you began going by Stuart again. The nickname came with...too much baggage - too many reminders of those you’d lost.

At school, you were treated like a celebrity, except not the cool kind. Some people wanted autographs, but it was obvious they were just making fun of you, so you ended up having to fight the urge to punch them.

You washed the bleach out of your hair, and it was obvious that your mum was happy to see the familiar blue return. You think she found what happened worse than you did.

_“...please, Jas, don’t leave me! What about him? He’s already lost so much!”_

_The fight was far too easy to hear from your room. It was clear that Jasper had walked out, but she told you that she kicked him out. You didn’t consider losing him much of a loss._

She went genuinely insane after that. One thing she did was talk about herself in the first person, and that only really made you annoyed by the name Rachel more than anything else.

It was too much for the two of you to stay there - in that house, in that town, so you left. It meant missing the end of school, but you didn’t really mind.

You went to live with a family friend, Noodle. She owned a diner and was relatively your age, and you got along pretty well for people who barely saw each other before.

She said you could stay with her as long as you wanted. You’d been with her for a year so far. You don’t think she meant that long, but she hasn’t said anything so you assume it’s fine.

It was nice that your mum had somebody else to talk to, and good for you, too. It gave you more space to be okay. And you were okay. You didn’t feel much anymore, not after the whole thing with Eric and your dad and...others, but it was good not feeling. It was like a superpower.

Noodle gave you a job. You think it was more just so that you had something to do. It was what you’d call irony.

_“Oh, yeah! Go get Marvin! See if Marvin can make a banana split for me, you fuckin’ cu—!”_

You didn’t like remembering that.

Work was boring, but you did meet Ace there. He teaches canoeing to kids, and has some strong opinions - plus, he said he was on The Powerpuff Girls but still has yet to provide any evidence. You still refused to get a phone.

_“I’m telling you, I was!” He said, “I distinctly remember because most of them were either the nicest people on Earth or total dicks—”_

_“Mhm, sure.”_

_Eventually he folded, putting his hands face-down on the picnic table, “Is this a date?” He asked, his face a weird mix of curiosity and, quite off-putting in manner, flirtatiousness._

_“Yeah,” you said, because what else was there to say? It wasn’t like you had someone else to say you were dating. He was nice, and he was a good kisser._

Ace was closer to your height than Murdoc could’ve ever dreamed of being, which meant it was a lot easier for it to feel like he was towering over you. Yet, unlike Murdoc, he didn’t have enough of an unsettling presence for that towering feeling to mean much.

_“We’ve got a cabin out by the lake,” you told him, your voice breathy. The feelings that you had with...He Whose Name Was Said Too Much Already definitely wasn’t there, but this was something._

_All you could think about was how badly his lips needed chapstick, and how he refused to use it because it felt awkward. That was okay, though, ‘cause you really didn’t want to spend your entire relationship comparing him to somebody who was dead._

_“Cool.”_

Sex was actually alright, it turned out. After the first few mishaps, you came around pretty easily. The most frightening part was getting over the mindset that you weren’t worth seeing, and you supposed it was better to get over it with someone...else.

You did tell Ace about everything. Mostly because everyone else expected you to if you were going to be in a committed relationship with him. He was shocked for a bit but moved on relatively quick.

_“Shit...” he mumbled, before hopping off the hood of his truck and moving to check on the fire you’d started for reasons you’d already forgotten. If it weren’t for the differences in hair, you could almost see Murdoc in him._

_That was hard. When you saw anything that even remotely resembled something from your experiences from two years ago - Murdoc, your dad, really any gas station - you were reminded of the horrible things you’d been through._

_Was it your fault that Murdoc had got shot? Should you have pushed harder to stay with him? What could you really have done to stop it?_

_That wasn’t a choice anymore. Right here, right now, you were with Ace, and there was no chance that that would change in the near future, so you might as well lock it down._

_“Do you want to get married?”_

_He turned around pretty much instantly, almost lighting his jeans on fire, “Yeah... why not? Fuck it.” Exactly. Fuck it. He gets it._

Your mother had asked if you wanted to wear a dress, because if so, you could wear hers. It was sort of a ‘fuck you’ gesture towards Jasper, you think, but no matter what you also thought it was pretty stereotypical and gross of her so you declined.

She still got her gesture out of it, since she was using Jasper’s divorce money to pay for it, so she wasn’t too upset about the dress.

You found that for the first time in ages, you were happy. Really, genuinely, happy. The last time you felt that was when...you didn’t know, and even if you did, you pretended you didn’t.

One of your jobs at the diner was to check the mail. Usually it was just a bunch of bills and other nonsense for Noodle to deal with, but this time, there was something for you.

It was a basic cardboard box, and inside was another box - one made of gross-feeling velvet. Within that box was a bullet with your last name scribbled into the side. It wouldn’t have made you feel anything if they put your name right.

_TUSSPOT._

Instead of paying much attention to it, you just threw it out. What kind of weirdo sent people a bullet in the mail? That was just insane.

As you walked away from a table, you looked out the window. Outside, across the road, was a car. It had been there for days straight, and at first you paid no mind to it, but now it was just weird.

“Do you know whose car that is?” You asked Noodle, hoping she would have some sort of answer.

“No. Why?”

You shrugged, “I dunno. Nothin’.” You used to be really good at knowing when somebody was watching you, but now you weren’t sure. You were probably just being paranoid; these might’ve been those pre-wedding nerves your mum was telling you about.

“I’ll be in the office,” Noodle said.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing the mop bucket so that you could empty it in the bushes out front. After that, you just had a few things left to do and then you could lie down for the night.

Grumbling the entire way, you pulled it out onto the porch. The car was still there, and it was starting to get dark out, so whoever was inside really began to creep you out. 

You decided to finally do something about it. So you pushed the bucket to the side and began walking towards the car, and immediately, the engine started up, as if they didn’t want to be caught.

“Oi!” You shouted, before they backed up into the hill, effectively rendering their vehicle immobile. You knocked on the window and they opened the door, still not looking you in the eyes, and therefore prompting you to ask, “Who are you? What are you doing?”

And then they turned around to face you, and you could’ve sworn you were about to have a heart attack.

“Shit.”

-

It was a fitting end to a doomed love story. You remembered how 2D hovered over your half-unconscious body, screaming for you to not leave him. You were happy, giving him the chance to move on, to live his life without the burden of you clinging onto his arm.

And then you didn’t die.

You were under 24-hour police surveillance as you waited for a court date. Every chance he got, your dad came in to see you. It was like he had changed since he heard that you were shot.

_“Are you gonna eat that?” He asked, pointing at the tray of your food. You said no, so he took it and began to eat every bit of the disgusting hospital food._

Weirdly enough, you think the thought of him losing both of his sons made him slingshot himself back into reality. Of course he was still the same old bitter dad, but you were sort of...not as afraid to be around him.

_“Where’s 2D?” When you asked, he just shrugged. Apparently the two of you weren’t allowed to see each other, which was particularly upsetting because you really wanted him to know that, at least for the time being, you were alright._

At first, you’d tried to convince yourself that it was okay, and that this was what you wanted - a new beginning for him. But slowly the feeling of ache, of needing someone so badly, creeped back in. Often, you found yourself crying before you went to sleep. You played it off as if it was just from pain.

You thought about him a lot. You wondered if he missed you, too, or if he’d already moved on. Part of you wanted to know at least how he looked, if he’d given up like you had.

_“Hello, Murdoc,” one of your watchers, as you called them, said, stepping into your room, “I’ve got some results to discuss with you. Would you like your father?”_

Naturally your father’s reaction to hearing bad news was to eat or cry, often at the same time. So you just told her no and she went on with the news. She talked about your injuries, about complications, and things taking time...and long roads ahead.

_“But in many ways, you are extremely lucky,” she said, forcing a grin._

_You didn’t feel lucky. Within a couple of days you’d gained and lost everything. It was like your poor decisions were ripping you apart from the inside, like you were a ghost in a human’s body._

_“Okay.”_

You’d never met 2D’s mum, not until she walked into your room. She seemed quite nice at first, but the feeling didn’t last very long.

_“How are you?” She asked._

_“I’m okay,” you paused, then looked at your tray, “Would you like a yoghurt—”_

_She interrupted, “No.”_

_You decided to break the ice, to address the elephant in the room, “How’s St—”_

_“You need to break up with him,” she didn’t give you any time to reply, “The thing is, none of it was his fault, right? It’s your fault, what happened. I’m sure you didn’t mean it, but you’ve ruined his life. You’ve ruined everything.”_

_All you could do is sit there like an idiot, like a deer caught in headlights. She was so abrupt with the way she spoke, like she knew what she was saying was automatically correct._

_“I’m sorry,” she added when you didn’t say anything, “What can you offer him? Like this, I mean? Are you going to be able to walk again?”_

_“They think so.”_

_“And they say you’re going to prison. Is that right?” She already knew the answer, she just wanted to hear it from you directly._

_You sighed, not wanting to think too much about it, “I don’t know. Probably.”_

_“If you loved him, you’d let him go,” she smiled, “It’s like that song.” You weren’t sure what song she was referring to, but you knew she was right._

_She pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of her purse, “I thought you could write him a letter.”_

_You really didn’t want to, mostly because you didn’t want to admit that she had a point. But she persisted, “He needs to move on. You’re no good for him—“ she seemed to realize what she had said, “—I’m sorry. But it’s the truth.”_

_Part of you still thought that you could outrun the truth, like you did at first when your mum died. You thought you could avoid the real world. But even now as you thought back to all the good moments, you felt guilty._

So you did it. You wrote out the full letter, as harsh as you could manage without physically breaking thinking about how he’d feel while reading it. 

You figured that he’d gotten the letter, because after that, you never heard from him or his mother.

On the upside, after a lot of surgery, you were able to start learning to walk again. And you didn’t end up going to prison after all. The jury decided that you had been acting in defense of another.

All the trial did for you was make you feel guiltier about the letter. You imagined him ripping apart at the seams, but then you just realized you were projecting how you felt onto him. There was nobody saying that he had to feel bad about losing you - except for you.

Your dad had made a clear effort to be better. He started taking online parenting courses - as odd as that seemed - and let you know of his feelings more often than he ever did before. You figured that maybe if he’d done that after your mum passed, you wouldn’t be where you were, and maybe, you’d still have your brother.

_“I’m...really glad that we’re spending time together,” he said. The two of you were out at a bowling alley, and were stopping at the time to eat pizza. You didn’t think that two people could possibly eat an entire pizza by themselves but you were quickly proven wrong._

_You shrugged, “Yeah.”_

_To be honest, you thought that bowling was a bit of a stretch considering you just got back the use of your legs. But it turned out that you weren’t the one you should’ve been worrying about._

_You heard something hit the floor, but didn’t think much of it until after you turned around and saw your dad with people surrounding him._

_“Move!” You shouted, pushing everyone away, and trying to get him to say something, anything, “Dad? Dad!”_

It was hard, losing everyone you had. First it was your mother. Then Hannibal. Then 2D. And now, to put the cherry on top and smash your face into the whole sundae, your dad.

You couldn’t even make it back into your house, especially not after his ashes were delivered to you. So, you ended up sleeping in the car. You did everything in there, it was like your new home. The mailman thought it was a tad weird that he had to deliver the mail to the driver’s window, but he got over it.

There was this one time, though, where you were sent a strange package. It was a basic brown box, with a smaller velvet box inside. Then, inside of that box was a bullet, with your last name scratched into the side.

_NICCALS._

The bullet gave you the idea to see 2D again. You were unsure why, but it did, and that was more motivation than you’ve had in a while.

You tried going to his original address, but he didn’t live there anymore. The lady who did gave you his new address, though, which led you to a diner in the middle of basically nowhere.

From your car you could see him clearly; he was a server there. You laughed, thinking about your first date, even though that time wasn’t the greatest. It just reminded you of a time when you weren’t in your car, holding your father’s ashes, stalking your ex.

You were ready to see him again. So, you walked up to the porch in front of the building, and prepared to walk in, until you saw something through the giant windows. 

He’d moved on.

Sighing, you stepped back. Just because he moved on already didn’t mean you couldn’t still watch him, right? It was pretty creepy, actually, but what other choice did you have left? You didn’t want to lose everything. You weren’t ready for that.

It was all well and dandy. For a couple of days you camped outside the diner, and nobody came out to question you. You just sat there, making sure he was okay. That’s what he deserved, right? To be okay?

Then, one day, he came out to empty a mop bucket, and he took sudden interest in your vehicle. Panicked, you tried to back up, but went straight into the hill. You were stuck.

“Oi!” He shouted, before prying the driver’s door open, “Who are you? What are you doing?”

All you could do was be a man and face him. And when you did, you were unsure if his face lightened or fell, but either way, a new breath of life was breathed into you just by seeing him up close.

“Shit.”

You forced a strained grin, “Hey.”

“For fuck’s sake...”


	11. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D and murdoc begin another adventure.

Why is it that the more you have to say, the harder it is to speak?

“You should take a shower,” you said, immediately regretting it afterwards but not taking it back, “You smell gross.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Noodle walked up to you and gave you each a cup of tea, “Who’s this?”

“Murdoc,” you responded simply.

She took a good look at him, “Oh, wow,” she mumbled, before heading back to the office, “I’m gonna finish cashing up.”The door closed, and suddenly the silence was back.

You took a sip out of your cup, trying to hold yourself together. After all this time of thinking he didn’t want anything to do with you, here he was, right in front of you, looking like an idiot.

“Have you been following me?”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so straightforward with his answer. You sat your cup down on the counter, jumping slightly at the loudness of the noise it made when it hit the counter.

Part of you wanted to jump into his arms, but the other part remembered the letter he sent, and that you were about to be married.

He took a box out of his pocket, one similar to the one you received. Except when he opened it, it had NICCALS carved into it.

“Did you get one of these?” He asked.

You just nodded, and then added, “Is that what you came here to tell me?”

“Er...” it looked like he was trying to come up with something in his head, like he always did, “Yeah.”

“That’s it?”

He switched to being defensive, “Well, it seems a bit sinister, doesn’t it?”

“Not really! It’s probably just some dickhead that we went to school with...” you collected yourself and continued, “You shouldn’t have come here, Murdoc.”

He didn’t say anything, instead looking down at his legs. That’s when you noticed that one was...off.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

“Nothing. It’s just a bit stiff,” he said, before looking back at you, “My dad’s dead.”

You tried to focus on anything else. You couldn’t make eye contact without feeling bad, “Sorry,” you paused, thinking of something to say. You figured he’d find out one way or another, “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“I know. Congratulations.”

Was it bad that you thought it was kind of nice to see him? To know that he was alright at least? You figured not, but the guiltiness lingered.

-

“Yeah, you can’t drive that,” Noodle told you, inspecting the damage that your car had taken, “I’ll get Russel to take a look at it.”

You and 2D shared a look, before you turned back to her, “Russel?”

“Yeah, my new mechanic. He doesn’t know too much but he isn’t bad either. We’re good friends. Why?”

2D interrupted, “Nothing.” It probably wasn’t who you were thinking of, so it was probably a good thing he stopped you before you made a fool of yourself.

“Where are you staying?” She asked you, “I’ll give you a lift.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” you didn’t know how to tell them that you were living in your car. It was embarrassing.

But 2D seemed to see right through you, “You’re living in your car, aren’t you?”

Your head dropped, “Yeah.”

“You can stay in the cabin,” Noodle told you. You wanted to thank her, but it felt like your throat was blocked up. This made the car ride there especially awkward.

The cabin was nice. It was big, or, at least bigger than your house, so that was pretty weird to you. In a way it reminded you of Eric’s house, which you didn’t like at all because it didn’t make sense.

Noodle gave you a tour of the place just so you knew where everything was. She seemed nice for somebody who just had to give up her space for a stupid orphan.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” she said, mostly to 2D, “Take as long as you want to catch up, but not too long. We’ve got a big day tomorrow,” she punched him lightly in the arm and walked out.

Before now, there was a light in his dark eyes. This light didn’t exist anymore. It was just black. You thought that there were times right when you returned that they flickered white, but you’ve managed to make yourself believe that that was a lie.

“She says that she’ll pay for your car,” he said, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. You almost said something but didn’t, instead staring at your leg.

There was a long, irritating moment of silence, until: “I would invite you to the wedding, but I figure that would be kinda weird.”

“Yeah,” you didn’t want to go anyways. You were convinced your heart couldn’t take watching that.

You knew then that there was nothing else that could be said. What you wanted to say, you couldn’t, because you were talking to somebody who was about to be married.

He began walking away, “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Then, he stopped, “Murdoc?”

You bit your lip, and then looked back up, trying to avoid looking him in the eyes, “Yeah?”

“When your car’s fixed tomorrow, you’ll leave, right?” Part of you wanted to believe that you heard his voice crack while speaking, but you knew that you were a delusional piece of garbage.

“Yeah.”

He tapped his foot against the wooden floor, “You shouldn’t have come here,” the statement was simple, but the fact he said it twice made your heart ache, made your throat burn with the fire of a thousand suns. He didn’t want you.

“I’m sorry,” is all you could manage to say, because what else was there to say? Everything else was off the table.

Slowly, he reached for the doorknob, “I... I’m sorry about your dad,” then, as if he was never there, he was gone, and with him went all of the familiarity of your miserable, miserable life.

You definitely preferred being shot, because when you were shot, you thought that that would be the end. You wouldn’t have to endure anything further from that point. You were done. But with this, there was no coming back. You’d dug your own grave, and now, you had to lie in it.

That night you slept poorly, although it was technically the best sleeping conditions that you’d faced in quite a while. You were less worried about yourself, and more about your sanity. Would you be able to look at yourself if you stood and let him do this? Then again, he was a grown man.

He didn’t want you.

The thought made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. After everything you’d been through, he didn’t want you. And even more than that, no part of him needed you. You abandoned him, and you were finally going to pay for it.

-

You felt weird.

The reflection you saw in the mirror wasn’t you. It was an idea of you, an idealized version of yourself that you didn’t even recognize. Because even then, standing there in your white tuxedo with your perfectly combed hair, you were no longer an entity that deserved anything good.

It was cold outside, so you put on another jacket. To be quite honest, your mum didn’t mind. She was just happy that somebody so close to her was getting a checkmark next to the box of one of their big moments. It didn’t feel big, though, and that was the issue.

She’d bought a limousine. That in itself made you feel like you could be important to somebody, but then you remembered what you’d done - bulldozed away every chance at a friendship with Murdoc.

“Do you like it?”

All you and Noodle could do was stare at the vehicle, mouths agape. What do you say to a gesture like that? Part of you wanted to say something snarky due to the annoyance you held in yourself, but you realized that you didn’t always have to be a jerk.

“Yes,” you gulped, “Thank you.”

-

At first it felt nice, just being near 2D again. The feeling didn’t last.

You took a shower in the lake, because that’s where Noodle said to. You were unsure why they didn’t have a real shower, but honestly, the fresh water felt kind of nice. Cold, but nice.

When Russel showed up, it was no secret that you’d met before. It was sort of chilling, seeing someone who had a little but important impact on your life.

“Oh, hey,” he said when he stepped out of the car. You could tell he recognized you, but he tried to play it off naturally.

“You’re a mechanic now?”

He shook his head, “Not really. I just do some jobs for Noodle,” there was a horrible moment of silence, before he scratched the back of his neck and sighed, “Look...I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I...I was the first one who was questioned by the police in the case of the murder. I told them everything.”

“Oh,” you could’ve been bitter about it. Without him as a witness, you probably would’ve gotten away with it. But you knew that it was likely your own fault, “It’s fine.”

He hesitated, but soon said, “Noodle told me about 2D, actually, but we haven’t seen each other in forever. How’s he doing? I keep meaning to ask her but keep forgetting.”

“Hell if I know.”

“I hope he doesn’t hate me.”

You shook your head, “Nah. If anything he hates me. You should be good, Russ.”

The conversation didn’t go on for much longer after that. You thanked him and he gave you his number to call. You still didn’t have your own phone, but swore to use the first landline you could. You needed something.

-

You felt like a pony at a show. At the end of the aisle, you could see Ace. He looked happy, and you wish you could change so that you were too. You had been before, at least slightly, but that was before Murdoc showed up again. If you’d known, you wouldn’t have been so compulsive.

Maybe you could run now. If you ran now, you were sure that nobody else would be fast enough to catch you. Except for Noodle probably. You didn’t run, though, because you couldn’t do something like that to Ace.

“Am I making a mistake?” You muttered, shaking. If your family hadn’t insisted on being so formal, you would’ve worn your jacket during the ceremony as well.

Your mother turned to look - or more stare - at you, “What? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.”

Everybody was probably doubting themselves right now. You couldn’t be the only one. The problem was that your doubts were eating away at your soul, and not even looking at how happy everyone else was could stop the nagging.

“Do you take...” you couldn’t hear anything else after that. Everything was a blur. All you could think about was how the lady sounded like a news reporter.

Everything was a blur. Soon Ace’s face warped together and all you could see was green. You thought you were about to pass out.

-

The road was lonely. You didn’t know where you were going, but you didn’t want to be anywhere near there anymore. Maybe you’d go to France or something and meet some guy before pretending to fall in love with him while at the same time plotting to kill him, then launching you into a strange sequence of events that almost ends up getting you sent to prison.

Needless to say, you were still a bit salty about the entire situation, mostly about how you handled it. At this point you could very well be labeled a professional idiot.

Then something happened that made you stop your car. In front of you, in the middle of the road, was 2D, fully decked out in a tuxedo with his hair combed to the point where he looked like a butler from Downton Abbey.

He ran over to the passenger side of the car and jumped in, staying silent. You thought that saying something yourself would help, but a small “hey” was all you could manage. What was going on? This wasn’t something that just...happens.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, not even looking at you. You could hear the stain in his voice, like he’d been holding back something.

“Okay.”

The ride was quiet, mostly. He didn’t say anything, and the only noise he ever made was when he had to clear his throat. Aside from that, you didn’t say anything either, and the car made more noise than the both of you combined.

You pulled into the parking lot of a random diner. You thought that, maybe, he was hungry and would open up more over food. But neither of you could move, and ended up just sitting in the car.

“What’s that?” He asked finally, pointing at something sitting by your leg.

You picked it up and held it close, “My dad,” his urn was cold.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Figured I’d sprinkle him somewhere, yeah? Jus’ don’t know where yet.” You were waiting for the right moment to tell him that you loved him. That was the one thing in all this chaos that you knew for certain; it was constant.

But you couldn’t say that to him, not after he’s just run away from his own wedding. You had to bide your time, which was off-putting, because the last time you said you’d do that was when you found the photos and video camera in Eric’s cabinet.

“Are you hungry?”

“Kind of.”

“Then should we go in?”

“I guess.” He threw his jacket into your arms, probably accidentally, or out of some weird habit, and stepped out. You thought he looked nice when he made a huge effort, but you figured that you only really thought that because the last time you truly saw him, he was essentially in rags with his hair crusted and disgusting.

You were seated at a booth near the back, and could see some people giving you and 2D weird looks. That’s when it occurred to you that you both were wearing suits, one white and one black, and it looked oddly suspicious.

“Congratulations,” was the first thing your waitress said to you, and all of a sudden, your thoughts were confirmed.

2D shook his head, “No, no, we’re not married,” he said with a smile, “We actually just wanted to get more use out of these, you know? Figured we’d have a day out on the town...”

He was good at making things up on the spot. It was admirable, and helpful in situations like this where it was easier to lie than to tell the truth.

“Oh. Good for you,” she replied, “I’ll give you a couple of minutes.”

When she was gone, you thought that it would be a good idea to address a few of the things that were nagging at you from the inside, “‘Dents—?”

“Don’t call me that,” he interrupts, “I just...I don’t think that’s appropriate anymore.”

“O...Okay.”

“What did you want?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I just wanted to talk about that letter I sent you.”

“What letter?” When you realized that he might’ve not gotten it, it felt like a weight was lifted off your chest - “Oh. That.” - which seemed much heavier when it was put back down.

“I’m really, really sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he said, “It was ages ago. I don’t even remember what it said.”

-

_2D,  
I don’t want to see you again, ever. Because of you, I killed someone. I can’t ever take that back and it’s made me resent you. So whatever you feel about me, you should know that I don’t feel it in return. Please leave me alone._

_Sincerely,  
Murdoc_

_PS. Good luck with everything._

You clearly remembered first getting that note. Your mum had handed it to you after she’d gotten the mail. When you saw who it was from, at first you were happy to see that he was alright. But then, when you read it, everything came crashing down.

One of the boldest memories you held from your nights living with Noodle was crying yourself to sleep, thinking about how he didn’t want you around anymore. It wasn’t at all how you thought he felt about you, and you were...crushed, to say the very least.

_Because of you, I killed someone._

Fearfully you thought back to the night where he killed Eric. You could still feel the man’s grip on your wrists, the way he bit so harshly into your neck, the ringing in your ears as you screamed for help.

_“Murdoc!”_

You’d screamed for him. At first it didn’t seem like much but as time went on, and you thought about it more, you realized that that was because he made you feel safe. And then, when you weeped into your pillow, thinking of the letter, you repeated it over and over.

_Murdoc. Murdoc. Murdoc._

_I can’t ever take that back and it’s made me resent you._ Nobody ever wanted to believe that the person they trusted the most hated them, or in these words, resented them. _It’s made me resent you._

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

You couldn’t clear out the screaming in your head. Somehow, you’d ruined everything for everybody.

“It’s fine.”

In your head you could map out conversations perfectly. You could decide what you wanted to say, do whatever you wanted to do, but in real life, you were a mess.

The food was gone soon, and all you were doing was waiting for something to happen, for him to put down the money so that you could leave. It was like he wanted something from you, which was painful, because you wished he would just tell you.

“Shall we go?”

You tapped your finger against your arm, “That’s what I’ve been waiting for. You’ve got to pay.”

“I know,” he said, “Should we still go?” You knew what he was trying to do; he was trying to make this like old times, the times when you’d just walk out of restaurants without feeling anything. 

Since then, you’ve mentally thrown away all of your father’s harmful lessons. You kind of thought it was ignorant of him to think you’d even think that you’d want to do something like that.

“You do realize that when you don’t pay, the waiter or waitress has to pay for the meal themselves?”

That shut him up, “I...I didn’t...”

“Put down the money so we can go,” you told him, standing up and walking out. You assume he did that, because within a few seconds he was following you, calling your name.

For a second, you considered just walking home from there. He still had your jacket, but it wasn’t that expensive of a jacket so you didn’t mind. It seemed like the whole dine-and-dash thing was the tipping point. You thought that maybe this was what you wanted, but it wasn’t. 

You wanted - no, needed - stability. You needed to get back home, back to Ace.

“2D!”

“What?” You whipped around suddenly. It was fast enough to give you a headache, enough to make you wish you’d just kept walking. You had no doubt that he would’ve followed you the whole way.

-

I love you.

They were three simple words on their own, but now that he was staring at you again, you found it hard for them to come up your throat.

_I love you._

You were unsure of why it was so hard. At that point it wasn’t because he was with someone else, because you could give less of a shit about this guy’s feelings. You just had to say it. There would never be a right time.

_I LOVE YOU._

“I think we should go back.”

It was easy to say that the statement caught you off guard, “What?”

“What are we even doing, Murdoc? We didn’t have a plan or anything—”

“We didn’t have a plan last time!”

“We killed someone last time!”

You were way too easy to shut up nowadays, “Okay, okay, that’s fair, but why are you in such a rush to get back?”

“Because I’m married, idiot!”

“You...you did it?”

He looked at you like you were the stupidest person on Earth, “Yes!” Then he started walking off again, this time to where your car was supposed to be parked.

Except, when you finally made it, you saw a tow truck dragging it off.

“Oh, no!” 2D shouted, running after it. You were only able to move once he was, due to your state of trance. He had longer legs than you, so of course he got farther, but by the time you caught up to him it was only because he’d stopped.

He turned to you, “What do we do now?”

You couldn’t answer, because again your throat was clogged up. You felt like you were going to choke.

“M...Muds,” he seemed hesitant to use the nickname, “you don’t have to cry. I know it was your home and all but...”

“My dad’s in the car.”

He seemed to have this great moment of realization, “Oh, right!” Then, he grabbed you by the wrist and began running after the truck again. Although it was obvious he didn’t like you the way you loved him, he still cared, which felt a lot nicer than whatever you’d been thinking.

You also happened to think that he was quite the idiot for that, though.

After what must’ve been five straight minutes of running, he stopped again, and saw that you were still holding his jacket, “I am a bit cold now,” he told you through staggered breaths. You handed him it and he thanked you, before putting it on and continuing to run.

-

“Four-hundred fifty plus VAT.”

You were starting to become frustrated with this entire day, “What?”

“Shouldn’t have parked it where you did,” the guy said, arms crossed. You wanted nothing more than to grab this man by the shirt and punch him, but you knew you weren’t very threatening.

“I don’t understand,” Murdoc began, audibly broken, “There wasn’t a sign there or anything.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, there would’ve been a sign.”

“There wasn’t a sign!” You yelled.

“There’s always a sign.”

You lost your patience, “There fucking wasn’t, though!”

“Maybe you need glasses.”

“Maybe you need a better job!” Murdoc tried to calm you down by putting a hand on your shoulder, but it only made you flinch. 

Once you collected yourself, you decided to try another route, “Look, we just got married. We’re trying to save up for a honeymoon, and we don’t have a lot of money. Can’t you just let it go this time?”

He had to physically hide his disgust, which only made it worse, “Cash only.”

“Please, can I just get my dad?”

“What?”

“My dad. He’s dead and in the car,” when the man began panicking, Murdoc reiterated, “Not his body! His ashes, they’re in the car.”

He eased up, “So he’s in the car?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s here?”

“...Yes?”

“Then he’s safe.”

-

By then you were starting to become less patient, “Please, Sir, if I can just get him now, I will come back with the money later and—”

2D grabbed you by the arm, “No, Muds, come on. We’ll figure something out.” It felt nice that he’d called you the nickname again, but the feeling didn’t last. He turned to face the guy, “What time do you close?”

“Five.”

“Okay,” then he pulled you out.

“What are we doing?” You asked once the both of you were far enough to have him not hear you.

He held up a pair of wire cutters that, somehow, he’d been able to hide, “We’re waiting ‘till five ‘o clock.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about his sudden confidence. Usually, you were the one who was confident in everything, the one who had a plan for freedom and rebellion. Maybe you were just being stupid.

But sometimes being stupid might be a good thing, so for the sake of your own sanity, you put on a facade.

He chose a spot on the top of a hill, with a perfect view of the car pound. There was, randomly, the entire backseat of a car there, and that’s where you sat. The both of you looked misplaced - there in your suits. You could see the bottoms of 2D’s pants getting dirty already.

“How did he die? Your dad?”

“Heart attack,” you said simply, as monotonous as you could manage, “Bad diet and little exercise.”

“Oh. That’s probably how I’ll go.”

You huffed, then looked at him, “Why did you get married?”

“I don’t know...I wanted to? Not much you can really do around here,” he tried to play it off as a joke, but it wasn’t. It was crushing, and yet, you deserved it. You were the one who hit him with a gun and ran, not his husband.

He laid down on his side, “Wake me up when it’s time.”

The silence was too loud. Once he’d fallen asleep, there wasn’t much you could do without fear of waking him up. While he slept, though, you remembered the time in Eric’s house, right before the whole...murder thing. You also thought of that time in the car, before you almost got busted at the gas station. 

Watching him while he wasn’t fully conscious probably wasn’t the best pastime, but it was hard not to. They say that eye is naturally drawn to beauty.

Okay, you’re definitely a creep.

On paper, things looked pretty bleak for you. You were a homeless orphan on the run with a married man. Well, was it really being “on the run” if he made it clear that he wanted to go back? You were unsure.

You sighed, looking back at him again. It was roughly four forty-five at that point, and knowing that was the only reason you were glad you had a watch.

The thoughts from earlier came back. There would never be a good time to say it right to his face, but you were scared of how he’d react regardless, so why not try it out while he can’t react?

What kind of person were you? Were you the kind to push those who you loved away? Or were you the kind to admit that you, like every other person, were capable of feeling emotion? Of feeling love?

You didn’t want to be perceived as a total dick, so you got over yourself, took off your coat, draped it over him like a blanket, patted him - rather awkwardly - on the shoulder, and muttered a soft “I love you.”

To your shock, his eyes opened pretty much immediately, “What?”

And then, you retracted all of your prior progress, “Nothing. It’s almost time.” To get technical, you still had five minutes left, but there was no shame in being prepared.

When it actually was time, the two of you stood up and made your way down the hill. Unfortunately, basically right as you made it to the base, the guy came back, this time in a jacket with the word ‘SECURITY’ printed on the back of his jacket in bold, yellow lettering.

“Shit,” 2D whined, “They don’t even have security? It’s just him in a jacket!”

You considered giving up at that moment, but then remembered the Murdoc you used to be. Sure, that version of you was a prick most of the time, but he had a good idea every once in a while. So, you grabbed his arm and pulled him forward.

He took out the cutters and cut enough just so you could sneak in. Your car was in the middle of the pound, and to say that you were glad to be near it again would be an understatement.

“Alright,” he said, climbing into the passenger’s seat, “I can’t cut through the gate. We’re gonna have to drive through it.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

Knowing it would be a task that would need all of your focus, you shoved your father’s urn into 2D’s arms and put both hands on the wheel. You pumped yourself up, hit the gas, and moved so slow that instead of actually going through the gate, you just tapped it.

“What the hell, Muds?”

You began panicking, “I didn’t want to make too much noise!”

The man rushed out of the building, “Oi!”

“Oh, not to disturb him?” He laughed mockingly, “Yeah, nice one!”

“Stop being a prick,” you told him rather loudly, beginning to turn your panic into annoyance. Grumbling, you put the car into reverse and then shot forward, forcing the gates open and almost hitting the pound owner. Nevertheless, you’d made it.

For just a moment it was like old times. Particularly, when you’d robbed the gas station and made it out with 2D sucking your neck. Except this time, he wasn’t doing any of that, and was just staring out the window. You wish you knew what he was thinking.

“Do you still want to go back?” You didn’t bother looking at him, “2D?”

“We should stop.”

“What?”

He pointed in front of your car, on the side of the road, “That hitchhiker. She’s a woman, all on her own. What if some weirdo picks her up?” You knew very well he was vaguely referencing your own hitchhiking experience.

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed, stopping right beside her. She walked up to 2D’s window and leaned down.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, to which she didn’t really answer directly.

She just smiled, “Hi.”


	12. eleven

“How long were you waiting?” You asked once she was in the car and Murdoc had continued driving.

She shrugged, “Not long...thank you, by the way. Nobody else stopped.”

“Most people are jerks,” you’d wondered why you so desperately wanted to pick her up. At first you were able to convince yourself that you just wanted to save her from creeps like the man who’d picked you up all those years ago, but after a while you began to realize that you just didn’t want to be alone with Murdoc.

Speaking of which, that was about the time that he decided to step in, “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“Well, it’s the middle of nowhere, and you’re on your own. So either you’re in danger, or,” he looked at her through the rearview mirror, “you’re mental.”

You slapped him on the arm, “Murdoc!”

Somehow, she was able to brush his abruptness off, “Did you just get married or something?”

He shook his head, “He did. Where do you need to go?”

“Anywhere.”

“Okay.”

You decided that if you were going to be in a car with this girl, you might as well tell her your name, “I’m Stuart, this is Murdoc.”

“Hi,” he grumbled.

“I’m Heidi.”

You grinned at her, “Hi, Heidi.” She seemed nice enough, and you thought she was kind of pretty. She had light brown skin and bleached hair that went down just below her chin. Her hair almost reminded you of how yours looked for that one week or so, except hers was definitely better.

She didn’t always respond to your questions. You thought that maybe she was creeped out; you definitely would be if some weirdo with bright blue hair and pitch black eyes, accompanied by some green man picked you up.

Then, suddenly, the car hit something. And again. And again. And suddenly you realized it hadn’t been something with the road, but something with the tires.

“What’s wrong with your car, Murdoc? It’s literally the bane of our life.”

“Shut up.”

You all got out of the car and saw that there was a giant hole in his back tire. Heidi smiled awkwardly, “Do you have a spare?”

“That was the spare,” he snapped. You wanted to call him out for being rude, but he was probably stressed so you didn’t.

You waited for a second, before crossing your arms and walking off, “I need to pee,” is all you said to them.

-

“I’m sorry about this,” you told Heidi, and you were halfway honest. You sort of hated being rude on purpose, but you didn’t want to get to close to anybody else, and as a result, you ended up being cold to 2D as well.

She stuck her hand in the pocket of her jeans, “I’m thirsty.”

“Okay?”

“Have you got any water in your car?”

You figured you didn’t have to be rude the entire time, and you thought you had a case in the back, so you decided to check. 

“I think I’ve finished it—”

“Good news,” the sound of 2D’s voice made you look up, “There’s a house or something up the road. I saw smoke.”

Heidi bit the corner of her lip, “How close is it?” She asked.

“Really close.”

That’s how the three of you ended up pushing the car to a house you didn’t even know the exact location of. In an attempt to rid of your bad streak, you looked over at him, “Do you want to sit in the car?”

“Why?”

“So that your suit doesn’t get ruined.”

He grimaced, “I think we’re well beyond that point, Muds.”

When you finally reached the house, you realized that it wasn’t actually a house, but instead a motel of sorts, “Well this isn’t creepy at all.”

The man who ran the motel was a larger guy who wore a jumper. His name tag said that he was called Eustace.

“Oh. Congratulations!” He said once he saw the suits, and assumed what everybody else that day had, “It’s good to see some diversity in this town,” he looked at Heidi, “What were you? The flower girl?”

When none of you said anything, he went on, “What can I get for you?”

“Can we use your phone?” 2D asked.

You added, “And, please, can I use your toilet?” You didn’t really have to go, but it would feel nice to get away from all these people.

“Yes, and yes!”

Everything was refusing to go to plan, but then again, you had no plan. What did you truly expect to come out of something like this?

-

What you ended up doing was calling Noodle, and asking for Russel’s number. She gave it to you gladly, albeit asking multiple questions about where you were. You didn’t answer those.

“Hello?” You recognized the voice immediately.

“Hey. It’s 2D. We’re in a bit of a situation.”

It turned out that he wouldn’t be able to do anything until the morning, which ticked you off but you understood. Peeved, you looked back to Eustace, “Do you have the number for a taxi?”

“There’s only Todd, and he and his wife just had a baby.”

“Right.”

Heidi interjected, “Do you have any rooms left?”

“Yes,” he answered, “We have all of them, actually.”

“We’ll take two.”

You shook your head, “No, we can’t afford that.”

“I’ll pay. You picked me up,” she grinned, and added, “You saved me.” Briefly you wondered what exactly you saved her from, but decided not to worry much about it. It wasn’t any of your business.

“You and Murdoc want to be in the same room, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” It was better that way. It was cheaper. Save the taxpayer.

The both of you stood in the middle of the room, Murdoc most likely wondering why you’d decided to share with him. Honestly you didn’t know. Your heart told you it was because you wanted to be around him, but your lips said, “It was the last room they had.”

“Okay.”

You looked back at a set of deer antlers that were hanging on the wall, “Do you reckon those are real?”

“Dunno,” he muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Curious, you tapped one, “They’re quite sharp, actually.”

He laughed. Not with you, or at you, but somewhere in between. As you stared at him, you were drawn back into old times, and then, for a moment, back to the times you spent with Ace.

You wondered what he was doing. Was he worried about you? Was he angry? You were conflicted because right now, you were happy to be with Murdoc, but you knew that if you were with Ace, you’d be happy too. Maybe not as happy, but happy.

“We should check on Heidi,” you said, just to change the subject.

“We should leave her alone.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “She’s not right.”

“Just because somebody’s quiet doesn’t mean that they’re not right.”

“Are you talking about yourself? Because I dunno, running away from your own wedding seems pretty not right,” The comment was probably meant to be a joke, but you took it personally, and you could see that he caught on. 

But by the time he opened his mouth to apologize, you were rushing into the bathroom. Not to cry, but to breathe. You felt like a maniac. You wanted to run home and beg for Ace’s forgiveness, to tell him that you’d never do it again.

“2D? ‘De—2D, open the door.”

“I’m getting changed.”

“Into what?”

You looked around and saw a robe hanging on the back of the door. Quickly, you took off your suit and put the robe on, before opening the door right as he was about to knock again.

“Oh.”

“Let’s go. I’m getting a drink,” without another word you left the room, going to where Heidi was staying.

As you were seated at the table with your ex and a stranger, you never felt more out of your mind. You couldn’t believe that this was your wedding night.

“Where were you headed when you picked me up?”

“I was taking him home. He’d just gotten married but like the prick he is, he’d ran away from it,” another joke that you didn’t find funny.

“Oh,” she paused, “I was going to get married, but then my boyfriend died.”

“How did he die?” You asked, but before you could get a proper answer, Eustace came back to check on you.

He looked at Heidi, “Are you feeling like a spare part?”

“What?”

“Well, three’s a crowd. Four’s a riot,” he smiled, but the rest of you frowned, “I can sit down with you if you want.”

Your brows furrowed, “Why would she want that?”

“Oh, I’m just being friendly. Chill.”

“Well you’re so big on the whole diversity idea, but how do you know I didn’t marry her? Huh?”

He seemed genuinely confused, and Murdoc added, “Maybe I was the vicar.”

“Just stop bothering her, she’s not desperate or anything!” Grumbling to himself, he walked away, and Heidi thanked you.

You were probably going to be stabbed in your beds now. But you deserved it.

_“You look so handsome,” your mother complimented, more happy about the entire thing than you were._

_“Thanks.”_

_“I thought you were more likely to end up dead than married,” she admitted._

_Out of instinct, you smiled, “Right.”_

_“You can relax now. He’s safety!” You thought it was ironic that she was saying that, since she’d been abandoned by both of her two previous lovers. To be fair they were both dicks, but that was basically irrelevant._

_“How do you feel?”_

_“Exactly the same,” you mumbled. It was true. You didn’t feel any different. In fact you felt guilty, because despite all of your efforts to forget, you still had feelings for Murdoc - even during your wedding._

Murdoc nudged your arm, “2D? Are you alright?”

“I’m tired. I don’t normally drink.”

“Okay.”

Feeling overwhelmed, you stood up and walked out, knowing very well that both of them were watching you. It was like you were stepping on knives, and when you reached your room again, you collapsed. The bed was quite comfortable.

-

“Should we get another one?” Heidi asked once the bottle of wine was completely empty.

“No. I should probably go check on him, actually,” you stood up, “Night.”

“Night.”

The room was dark, so you turned on the lamp. 2D was on the bed, curled into himself, facing the opposite of you. Ignoring every voice in your head that told you not to, you sat down in the space next to him.

“You were right about Heidi,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“She’s a bit strange.”

“...Yeah.”

“Are you alright?”

He still didn’t bother looking at you, “Yes Murdoc, this is exactly how I pictured my honeymoon kicking off.” The sarcasm was laced with sadness and regret, and suddenly you felt disgusting.

“I’ll take you back,” you said, “tomorrow. I promise. If that’s what you want.”

“Maybe,” he hesitated, “What happened to you? After the beach? Nobody told me anything. Not properly, anyways.”

“It was quite bad,” you told him as honestly as you could, “I couldn’t walk for a bit. My dad was actually pretty supportive. Until he died.”

He didn’t say anything.

You sniffed, “I’m really sorry. I tried to see you, but then nobody would let me, and then...” you considered telling him about the time when his mum came to visit, but that was probably a bad idea.

Then he said something that made you forget everything, “I think I want to kiss you,” that was around when he turned to actually look at you.

“What?”

He looked guilty, “Is that bad?”

“No,” you tried to stop it, but the knobs were already turned, “I don’t think I can have sex.”

“I didn’t say sex, I said kiss.”

“I don’t think...it works anymore,” you admitted, “I haven’t tried, of course, but I got shot near there, so...sorry...” you hadn’t been able to cry like this since the day after you killed Eric, when 2D first left you.

Before you knew it, he was sitting up and putting his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could. It was comforting, especially when you could feel him breathing down your neck and his hair brush your ear.

When he pulled back, there was a moment where you just stared at each other, and without a word, you were kissing. You’d almost forgotten what this felt like, but when you remembered, you felt...good. And guilty. But mostly good.

Then you heard something, and he stopped, “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” you tried desperately to get that moment back, but it was no good. He was already moving back to his old spot, “What’s wrong?”

“Can you...” he paused, “Can you just give me a moment? Please? I’m sorry, but like, this is a lot.”

You stood up, “Yeah,” then you grabbed a pillow and walked off into the bathroom, “‘Dents?”

“Yeah?”

“It’ll be okay.”

-

Maybe he was right. Maybe it would be okay. But as long as there was that nagging feeling in your stomach, telling you that Ace would hate you for this, you didn’t feel okay.

Because maybe, as usual, it would be totally and completely fucked.


	13. twelve

That morning, when you woke up in the bathtub, you felt brand new. The two of you were together again, and finally... things started to make a lick of sense.

You met in the lobby, and strangely, Heidi wasn’t there. 2D was at the counter, slamming the bell, “Hello?!”

“2D?” When he heard you he turned around, looking unsure. You awkwardly placed a kiss on his cheek and then moved to stand beside him.

“There’s no-one here,” he said, seemingly irritated, “The man’s gone.”

“I’m sure we can use his phone,” you tried to reason, “I don’t think he’d mind.”

You called up Russel and he told you that he was on his way. Originally he’d insisted that he do it for free, but you felt like you needed to pay him for the service. Maybe it was only because it wouldn’t be your money.

“Heidi?” You asked, knocking on her door. She came out soon after, and you continued, “Will you be ready to leave soon?”

“Yes.”

“Also, I’m sorry to ask, but can we borrow some cash for the car? I promise we’ll pay you back.” She slammed the door.

2D glanced at you, “Do you think there’s somebody else in there?” Then, he started jumping to conclusions, “Oh! Do you think she slept with Eustace?”

“Wha..?”

“The owner! Last night!”

She opened the door and handed you a money clip, and before you could thank her, she slammed the door again.

“Why would she have sex with him?”

“Her boyfriend died. She has low self-esteem,” you didn’t think he was being fair, but didn’t say anything, “People do lots of stupid things when they feel bad about themselves.”

-

“Have you pissed anyone off recently?” Russel asked as he looked at the car.

“What?”

He pointed at the hole in the tire, “That is not an accident!”

You gulped, “Probably that guy at the car pound?”

“Or Heidi,” when you looked at him, he began getting defensive, “Joking.”

Russel put on a new tire and left, promising not to tell Noodle where you were. He understood running away to find yourself, and he felt for you.

“Where now?” Murdoc asked.

“Turn left,” Heidi instructed, grumbling to herself.

You were still going strong on your theory, “Are you alright?”

“M’fine.”

“Where are we going?”

“My sister’s.”

Murdoc grunted, “You didn’t mention a sister earlier.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Where does she live? The middle of nowhere?”

“Like, twenty minutes from here.”

You began to actually feel worried for her. You might’ve just been projecting your sickness and icky feelings onto her but you wanted somebody in the car to feel comfortable, “How did you sleep?”

“Okay,” she paused, “Can we roll down the windows?”

“Why don’t you take off your polo-neck?” You suggested.

“I think I’m gonna be—”

-

That’s how you ended up watching a complete stranger puke into a ditch. It was actually good because this provided you with a chance to actually talk to 2D, something you hadn’t had since the incident.

“About last night...”

“What about it?”

“Well,” you hesitated, not wanting to be too blunt but also wanting to get it over with, “How do you feel?”

His nose scrunched up, “I feel like we’re watching a stranger get sick into a ditch. That’s how I feel.”

“Okay...”

“So I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

There was another, more awkward, minute of silence, before, “How long is she gonna take?”

“Are we in a rush?”

He shrugged and sunk further into his seat, “I want to get back today.”

“What?”

“Yeah...but,” he added, “We can’t just leave her, so don’t even think about it. She helped out with the car, and the rooms, and...everything...”

“Okay,” you looked up, and she was beginning to walk back to the car, “I think she’s done.”

When she got back in, 2D turned around to look at her, “Are you alright?”

“I need to go to a chemist,” she said.

So you took her there, figuring it’d be another good opportunity to possibly talk about what had happened, to maybe change his mind.

That’s not how the conversation started, but you had to start somewhere, “Don’t you think it’s a bit weird she never mentioned her sister?”

“I think so. She could’ve just stayed there last night.”

The bait seemed to work, so you continued, “Isn’t it weird—”

“Murdoc!” He snapped suddenly, “She’s weird, okay? She does weird things. It’s really not that interesting.”

“2D...”

He cut you off, “We should go get money. For Heidi.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, opening your door to walk to the machine you saw outside the building. You thought that maybe he just needed time. And space.

-

You should’ve never kissed him. You don’t know why you did, it was very clearly a mistake that could’ve been avoided. Still, there was something there that you hadn’t felt in a long time. This, to put it simply, made you conflicted.

Being left alone for the solid minute that you were felt kind of nice. It gave you the opportunity to sit and take in silence. You needed silence sometimes.

Then Murdoc came back.

He didn’t say anything, actually, but his presence still made you uncomfortable. You knew he was thinking about what had happened, and to be fair so were you, but he was thinking about it in the... other way.

“Wonder what’s going on,” he said finally.

“You should go check on her.”

“I think she wanted to be alone.”

“But she’s been ages!” You complained, wanting him to leave so you could have another moment to yourself, “And she’s hungover.”

He picked at his nails, “She might be having a flapjack.”

“In a chemist?”

“They make healthy ones,” he explained, “Out of prunes and sees and things—”

“Just go in and check on her!” You didn’t mean to snap at him so much, but to be fair, you were under a lot of stress that you felt wasn’t deserved.

He didn’t move, but instead looked at you like you belonged in a psych ward.

-

You were starting to remember what 2D could be like sometimes. Like in the diner that one time, or at Eric’s house when he just brought Russel. He had these moments that really got on your nerves, but for some reason, you always forgave him for them.

“Why can’t you just ask nicely?” You asked, getting out and slamming the door. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to being yelled at, but you weren’t used to the yeller being him.

-

It was in these moments you thought that there was something wrong with you, and all you could do was bury your face in your hands and lose your mind.

-

The building reeked of cleaning products and mint. Usually you could handle overly-clean scents, but this, for whatever reason, made you feel sick. Like something was off.

“Good morning!”

“Morning,” you replied, stepping up to the counter, “Um...where is...she?”

“Who?”

You rephrased your obviously poorly-said sentence, “The woman. She’s my friend. I saw her walk in here.”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” it was like his entire expression changed. At first he was happy and smiley and everything, but now he was glaring at you like you were a criminal, “No one’s come in here.”

“I just saw—”

“Shame on you.”

Admittedly, that was the most off-putting experience you’ve ever had with anyone in your entire life. You decided to accept that she might have just left instead of dealing with your nonsense. Maybe she caught onto the awkward vibes that you and 2D were giving off.

“She’s gone,” you said once you made it back to the car.

He didn’t even bother looking at you, and kept staring out the window, “Oh, really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?” He drew out the ‘ea’ in a way that made you feel like a toddler.

“Yes—!” You were cut off by the door opening and then slamming shut.

“I need to eat,” Heidi said simply, “Now.”

-

Somehow you’d ended up deciding on some Chinese place. You weren’t really hungry so it didn’t matter much.

“It’s a bit early for lunch,” the waiter said once he returned with the plates, “Did you not have breakfast?”

Heidi tapped her finger against the table, “Um...no.”

“Do you want to put the plates down?” You were unsure if Murdoc knew it, but he was capable of making a room more cold than it actually was, even if the fact that he was right next to you made you feel warm.

After they started eating, the silence became rather overwhelming. You looked at the food that was still at the center of the table, and began messing around with the tray they were on.

“What are you doing?” Murdoc asked.

“This is a Lazy Susan,” you said, “I’ve never actually seen one before. They’re made so that people can pass food around more easily. They’re actually—“

He groaned, “For fuck’s sake, 2D...”

You noticed that Heidi was staring at you, which you supposed was fair. Neither of you were pretty good at not being awkward. When she saw that you noticed, she went back to eating, “What?”

Finally, one of you caved, “Look, is something up with you?”

“Murdoc!”

“You can tell us if you want.”

She stopped and put her fork down, “My boyfriend was murdered.” Shit.

“Oh,” is what you actually said.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

You hesitated, “Because...it’s what you say, yeah?”

“When somebody’s murdered?”

“I think so.”

Murdoc finally stepped in, “Both of my parents are dead.”

Her head turns to the side, “Were they murdered?”

The overuse of that word made you think back to that night when Murdoc stabbed Eric. This caused a pit to form in your stomach, and suddenly you were glad that you hadn’t eaten anything because you were sure you would be puking if you did, “Can you stop using the word murdered, please?”

He seemed to catch on to the uneasiness in your tone, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you stood up, “I just need some water,” you figured they must be like most places that give out free water.

-

2D leaving you with Heidi alone made things significantly more awkward. Unknowing of what to say, you reached down and picked up your father’s urn, which you had carried in with you in case the tow guy came back for round two.

“This is my dad.”

“My parents don’t speak to me anymore,” she said, taking a sip out of her glass.

That was around the time 2D came rushing back, looking somehow even worse than he did before he left, like he was worried about something.

“What’s wrong?”

He ignored you, “Are we actually near your sisters?”

Heidi nodded, “Close.”

He rushed off, “Can we get some takeaway boxes, please?”

-

You ran out as fast as you could. For whatever reason, the voice inside your head was nagging at you to see Ace, to make things easier, and you knew that the only way to satisfy that would be to listen to it.

Naturally Murdoc was following you, his arms full of the food you’d shoved into the boxes, “2D, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter, Murdoc!” You responded, shoving yourself into the car. He got in as well, which was reasonable enough considering it was his car.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked.

“What?”

“Is it because you felt sorry for me?”

You felt like pressing your hands to your ears and yelling ‘LALALALALALALA’ until he left you alone, but you were an adult, so that meant you had to actually say something, “No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is it ‘cause of what happened to me?”

“No! Not everything’s about you, you know.”

“Why? Because it has to be about you? You can’t...” he trailed off, his voice trembling, “You can’t kiss someone and then be mean, it’s confusing.”

At that point, you’d heard enough, “I’m being mean? You’re the one who snapped at the waiter!”

“And you’re the one who ran off and then came back demanding that we leave!”

“Oh, forgive me if I feel the sudden compulsive need to see my husband, who, in case you forgotten, probably thinks I’m dead.”

“It’s not my fault that you left him.”

“I left him because my mind was clouded with thoughts of you! I missed you!” You thought about bringing up the letter, but you figured it would be a better last resort than anything else.

“See what I mean? Confusing!”

“Why? Are you twelve? You dumped me, Murdoc!” Okay, maybe the last resort was coming up quicker than you intended, “You dumped me, in a letter, like a victorian.”

He stopped, “Wait. N...No.”

“No?”

“No!”

“That’s not what happened?” You could still see the letter in your mind vividly. It haunted you for months, and still does, so there was no doubt that he couldn’t lie about it.

“I didn’t mean it...It’s just...”

“What?”

“Your mum...made...me...”

That put your argument to a full stop, and suddenly it wasn’t so hard to believe that he wasn’t a heartless bastard. But even then, you still felt like you’d shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“What?”

“She...she came into the hospital, and made me write the letter. I didn’t want to. That’s why I added the end bit. I was sort of hoping that you’d catch on, but apparently, you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t...” you mumbled, “I actually, um, stayed up late a lot because of it. I thought that you hated me.”

“I don’t,” he said, reaching for your hand. You pulled back.

You felt stupid. Really, really stupid. What did you want from yourself? From other people? How could you want Ace and not Murdoc, and at the same time want Murdoc and not Ace? How was that fair to yourself?

“Can I apologize?” He asked.

“Okay,” but he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, “Say it. Go on, say sorry,” at that point you were begging, “Say sorry so I can say it’s okay and we can move on. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“No.”

Pulling the jacket tighter around you, you sunk further into your seat, “It’s not okay, that’s just how life is. It sucks.”

“It wasn’t just you who had a bad time.”

“It’s not a competition.”

He still didn’t face you, “I nearly died.”

“Oh, apparently it is—”

“I nearly died!”

Finally, you broke, “So did I! You even admitted it yourself when you showed me the tape! You knew that he planned to kill me after he did what he wanted to! So stop acting like—“

“You wouldn’t have died because I was there!”

“How was I supposed to know that? I thought you’d left me because I was being a jerk!”

“So you admit you were being a fuckhead?”

“I didn’t say that—!”

“But you implied it.”

“—and besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t being pretty shit when you were about to die! Remember how you hit me over the head with a gun?”

He froze, “W-Well, I was trying to protect you, and, I...”

“It hurt,” you said, beginning to tear up slightly, “I couldn’t, and can’t, believe you abandoned me. It was selfish. It felt like you were throwin’ me to the fishes, and...fuck—“

You were unsure of why he decided right then would be the right moment to kiss you, and you were definitely unsure of how it made you feel. At first, your instinct was to push him away, to get rid of the contact, but then you began melting into it.

“I...I care about you a lot.”

All you could do was sit there, dumbfounded, wondering how to decipher what was happening in your shitshow of a life. Your lack of a response made him look away and start the car.

“What about Heidi?”

He began driving, “Fuck Heidi.”


	14. thirteen

Neither of you wanted to say goodbye first. The tension from both your fight and kiss were still in the air. You didn’t know if you wanted to tell him to screw off or if you wanted to pull him close and never let him go.

“I can’t say goodbye again,” he said.

You sighed and undid your seatbelt, then opened the door, “Okay,” it hurt to walk away, but you supposed you had to choose sometime. Your choice wasn’t exactly to abandon him but to rather... make things right.

It was good to spend that time with Murdoc. You knew then that there was a chance it would work, but you needed a little push.

People say that moments like this were like ripping off a plaster. The problem is that, underneath all the plaster, there’s still quite a bit of shit.

Your mum was seated in a chair on the porch, with Noodle standing behind her.

“I made a mistake,” you said.

She cleared her throat, “It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”

“I wasn’t,” you knew that she’d find a way to make it about herself. You could tell her about what Murdoc said, about the letter, but sometimes it was easier to leave the plaster on.

After that she stood up and went inside, and Noodle looked at you for the first time since you returned, “Go easy on her. She was embarrassed, and it was a lot of money.”

“I’ll pay her back.”

“Good.”

You looked at your feet, and saw that your dress shoes were covered in mud, which wasn’t too surprising actually, “Is there a shift I could take?”

“You can have tonight if you want.”

“Thanks...” you took a moment to think. You didn’t have a lot of time to until that moment, “I should go see Ace.”

She cocked her head to the side, “Do you wanna change first?”

“Probably.”

-

In times like this, your dad taught you that music could lift the spirits. After you were released from the hospital, he would listen to various musicals with you. You remembered one that revolved around singing cats, and another about some political figure in America.

When you remembered him, you looked down at his urn. Maybe the nagging voice in the back of your head was right, maybe you were carrying him around like a mascot.

You were ripped out of your thoughts by something tapping on the roof of your car. You looked out the window and saw Noodle standing outside, so you put the window down, “You can’t park here, Murdoc. What are you doing?”

“Which way is the...uh...”

“Where are you headed?”

“I have no idea.”

-

Ace lived with his buddies, or, his “gang.” You thought it was kind of weird but he told you that they were like his family.

You knocked on the door, and put on a grin when the door opened, “Hi, Snake.”

“Fuck off and die,” he slammed the door in your face. He was quite protective of him. So was the rest of the gang, really, so you figured something along those lines would happen no matter who answered the door.

Not knowing what else to do, you sat down on the bench outside of their house and thought. Maybe if you sat there long enough they’d call the police for trespassing or some shit. You couldn’t move.

Soon, Snake came back out, tailed by Grubber, who didn’t really talk. He could, but usually didn’t. They brought tea and biscuits, and sat down next to you.

“Why’d you leave?”

“I got scared.”

“You should’ve told him.”

“I know.”

He went on, “I would’ve,” he looked at Grubber, “And so would he,” you considered asking how exactly, but decided not to push the limit.

“Where is he?” You settled on asking, “I want to go see him.”

Snake shrugged, “He’s doing something.”

“Come on, I need to see him, please,” it felt like all you could do was beg, because what else could you really do? You had to fix things somehow, and it was hard to do that when everybody hated you and you couldn’t find your husband.

-

“Still carrying that around?” Noodle asked once she was sitting next to you, referring to your dad.

“Yeah.”

“Who is it?”

“My dad.”

She nodded, “Oh. How’d he die?”

“Heart attack.”

“That’s good. Nice and quick.”

You thought back to that day at the bowling alley, when you turned around to see him collapsed on the floor, “It wasn’t that nice,” you wanted to tell her that you were there when it happened, but you weren’t looking for sympathy.

“At least he didn’t off himself.”

“No. My mum did that.”

She looked away, stunned, “Shit,” she then immediately changed the subject, “Where are you going to scatter him?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did he like?”

“Eating shit food. Cars,” you thought for a second, “and my mum.”

That’s when she seemed to get an idea, which was great because that’s a lot more than you had, “Where did they first meet? You could scatter him there.”

You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of that before. You told her thank you and she took that as a victory, giving you a pat on the shoulder before getting out and telling you to fuck off. It was jokingly so you didn’t take any offense and just did it.

As you drove away, you felt as if new air had been breathed into your lungs. You felt calm...sad, but calm. You had a new plan, a new purpose. You had to move on. Maybe your plan from yesterday, about running off to France, could become a reality, sans the finding another guy to commit a prosecutable felony for.

You stopped at a light and looked around at the other cars. Then, suddenly one zoomed past you, and you could’ve sworn that you saw Heidi in the driver’s seat. You figured it was fine, though, and there might be a perfectly good reason why she was in a car...headed straight towards 2D.

-

Snake ended up directing you to a field, and as expected, he was there, looking out at the trees. You straightened your jumper and made sure it was tucked in correctly still before walking up to him. Your shoelaces weren’t tied but he would be expecting that.

“Hey,” you mumbled. He seemed startled at first, but when he recognized who it was he jumped up, pulling you in as close as he could. You could feel his breath on your jaw.

“Oh, I was so worried about you!” He said, gripping your hand tightly with his own, “Where were you?”

“I’m sorry...” you sniffed, “How angry are you at me?”

“Pretty angry,” he said, “But I’ll get over it. So you’re back then?”

“Yeah.”

He looked like he was thinking, like he was considering his odds for something unspecific, “Can I show you something?”

“What?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Internally you thought that he was gonna push you down a well or something. You wouldn’t blame him if he did decide to do that. You deserved it after what you did to him.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

You did, and were met with the sight of a plain field. Nothing special, just grass and weeds, “I don’t get it.”

He began motioning randomly, pointing out spots that you’d otherwise think nothing of. He was planning on building you a house. It hurt because he cared about you, and usually that feeling of being cared for made you warm.

“Wow.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”

He motioned towards the ‘door,’ “Do you want to come in with me?”

It felt like your throat was burning, “I can’t,” you said, though you doubted he could truly hear you.

“Why not?”

Doing the right thing was always hard. When you were stressed or bored, sometimes you’d sing. You couldn’t sing in this case, but you wanted to. One night you’d been doing it around Ace and he told you that your voice was pretty. 

There was nothing pretty about what you had to do.

“Because I want a divorce.”

This, as most things recently did, led to a fight. He raised his voice but never screamed, and still somehow you ended up crying. He began walking away and you had to beg him not to leave you, which was actually quite hypocritical.

“Ace!” You yelled, desperate, “Please! I want to talk to you!”

He stopped, “Stu...” he turned back around and walked closer, “You know I love you, right? That I care about you in a way I’ve never cared for anybody? I would do anything for you.”

That was when he kneeled so that you were eye-level, “But, you don’t deserve to be with anybody. Do you know why?”

You didn’t have to say anything.

“Because you’re broken. And nobody deserves to have to fix you. If you love Murdoc; hell, if you love me, then you’d fix yourself before putting either of us through that. But who am I? Just go running back to him. I don’t care.”

You felt like you were going to throw up. You felt disgusting. You felt destroyed.

“I...” you didn’t know if you could say it. It was true, but not in the way you were implying, “I love you.”

He nodded, “I know, and I love you too, but the most I can offer you is a ride home. Come on.”

-

It wasn’t ideal. Barely only two hours after deciding to move on, you were, for all intents and purposes, stalking 2D again. But you weren’t the only one, and that was the problem.

-

You felt dead. Somehow you’d managed to ruin everything you had. Your mum was mad at you for leaving the wedding, and that means so is Noodle. Murdoc hated you for pushing him away. Ace is quite upset about the whole divorce thing, which makes his entire gang mad at you. And of course, you still hated your dad. You’d burned every bridge somehow.

As you took out the remaining biscuits and scones to save for later or throw out, you heard the door chime behind you. You turned around and there stood Heidi, grinning.

She sat down and you sat with her, knowing she had something to say.

“Why are you here?” She didn’t know where you lived, or where you worked, so for her to show up at your family friend’s diner was quite odd.

“I never got the chance to tell you something,” she said simply, pulling out a gun and placing it gently on the table. Then you knew it - you were surely going to die.

You gulped, “Shit.”


	15. fourteen

“How do you know where I live?”

“Murdoc told me last night.”

In your mind you sarcastically thanked Murdoc for giving away such sensitive information to a total stranger, but you’d never actually do it out loud.

This was pretty awkward. What do you even say to someone you abandoned in a parking lot? And who now, apparently, has a gun?

“Do you want a scone?” She couldn’t do anything until the last customer left, so you had a good amount of time to stall and eventually run.

“Okay.”

You stood up. Maybe you should’ve been nicer to her. You thought you’d been pretty nice, actually, but you can always be nicer.

“Do you want a glass of water?”

“Yeah. Do you have ice?”

“No.”

You finished getting her food together and, shaking, brought it to her, “Do you want jam?” Getting jam would require going to the back room, which would give you a chance to run out and get help.

“No, thank you,” that was the answer you were afraid of.

She motioned for you to sit down, so you did, figuring at that point that it would be better to cooperate with the girl with a gun, “I’m sorry we left you,” you said.

“That’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s, like, a really shit thing to do,” you paused, “and to be fair it was entirely Murdoc’s idea. I even—”

“You’ve apologized now,” she said quietly, taking a sip of her water, “No need to worry about it.” You considered telling her that you had cause to be worried, but decided that the odds probably weren’t in your favor.

-

Heidi had a gun. You could see it plainly, sitting on the table next to her. 2D was toast, and it was up to you to save him. Did someone really take that much offense from being left in a parking lot?

You ran to the pay phone on the side of the diner, putting in the money and dialing 999. When the call went through, it was foggy and you couldn’t hear anything. Your hands were shaking.

“Hello?”

_“Hello?”_

“If you can hear me - help. I need help!”

-

Watching her eat this time was a lot more awkward than before, and you had to talk to fill the silence, “Did you see your sister?”

“She was out.”

The door to the bathroom opened, and quickly, she moved the gun so that it wasn’t in plain sight. As the other customer came closer, you became even more nervous, knowing fully well that you were going to die the second you were left alone.

After the customer left, the gun returned to its spot on the table. The silence was far too loud, and you felt like puking.

“Where’s Murdoc?”

“He left,” you admitted. In that way he was not much different from everybody else in your life.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. I just know that he’s not here,” even if he was near you, you still kept him out of the question because you wanted him safe.

You thought about grabbing the gun, but there was a chance that you had no idea what you were doing so you didn’t.

“You could phone him.”

“What?”

“You could get him to come here,” this girl was sick. You knew perfectly well that the only reason she wanted him there was that so she could kill him along with you.

“Why are you here?”

She shrugged, “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“I think you knew my boyfriend.”

All you could do was sit there in confusion. For your life’s sake, you hoped she had the wrong people in mind, but you knew that it was unlikely. Who could it have been? Your dad?

“You killed him.”

Shit. 

The night flashed back to you once again. You were in that house again.

_“Leave me alone...please. I’ll leave if you want me to but—”_

_“Are you a virgin?”_

_You thought it’d be best to lie, “No.”_

Shivering, you snapped back into reality to the best of your ability, “You sent the bullets, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, “Are you scared?”

In this situation, similar to the last situation, you thought it’d be best to lie to her, “No. You got my last name wrong. It’s just Pot.”

“Why did you kill him?”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“I want you to tell me, 2D.” To hear her calling you by your nickname was bone-chilling, but maybe that was her intent.

You looked down at your lap, “I did it because he was going to hurt me.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. He was.”

She picked up the gun and pointed it slightly towards you, “Tell me what you did to him. Tell me!”

“We broke into his house.”

“Whose house?”

“You know who,” you paused, “The professor, Eric. We broke into his house. We had a bit of his wine, and made food. Then we went to bed,” you left out all of the bits about Russel because they were irrelevant.

You could see the gun tremble in her hand, “Then what?”

“He came home. I woke up, and he was in the room with me.”

She stopped, “You were in his room? What did it look like?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“He asked me if I was a virgin, and then he slapped me,” the memories of that night still managed to haunt your every move. You were afraid that, maybe, he wasn’t dead, and one day he would come back to kill you. Heidi seemed to be the real life version of that fear.

The screams were still clear in your throat, and you were sure that if you weren’t careful, they’d come back up along with your food: _“Please! Please let me go! Stop! Murdoc!”_

“Shut up!” She said it in the same way that he did when he stuffed tissue into your mouth, except she sounded more pained than he did.

You were too trapped in the thought to stop, “He held me down and tried to get on top of me...” you didn’t have to think very hard to hear to quiver in your voice, and you were certain that recounting the story under these circumstances wasn’t good for you.

“Shut up!”

Finally, you snapped out of it, “You were the one who asked me to tell you.”

Before she could say anything, you could both see light creeping in through the blinds. When you looked out, you could see a cop car. This was good.

“Why are they here?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

She shoved her gun down beside her and put her hand on top of it, and when the cop came in, the both of you put on innocent smiles. You had to in order to keep your life.

“Evening!” He said, “Everything all right?”

You stood up, and suddenly the amount of sweat on your forehead was starting to bother you, “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“Hmm. Must of been kind of a mix-up,” he hesitated, “Do you mind if I take a look around, then?”

“No. Go ahead,” you silently hoped that he would see the gun and help you. That was his job, right? To help people?

“Just the two of you here?”

“Yeah.”

He looked around for a bit, checking around every corner. Maybe if you were lucky Murdoc would show up again and save the day. He was good at that, at showing up at simultaneously the best and worst time.

“Wait,” he said on his way out, “Is that apple strudel?”

You nodded, thinking that the longer he stayed, the more of a chance you had at survival. He smiled, “Lovely! I’ll have one, please.”

If it hadn’t been for the stress of Heidi’s overwhelming presence, you would’ve been overjoyed to have a customer that didn’t yell at you or be a general nuisance. Slowly, you reached for one and put it on a plate for him. He ate rather loudly.

“Have you heard about the murder?”

“What murder?” Heidi asked.

“Motel owner up the road,” the second he said the word ‘motel’ you were too stunned to move. You realized that Heidi hadn’t slept with the man as you’d assumed - she killed him.

You moved slightly so that you wouldn’t be stuck there forever, “What happened?”

“I really shouldn’t say,” he completely ignored himself, “Got shot in the head, and then thrown into a wardrobe.”

Then you remembered last night, when you’d been kissing Murdoc, and there was a sound from a while away. It wasn’t nothing, it was Heidi shooting the man. The memory made you sick, so sick that you had to physically leave the room. And that’s when you saw him - Murdoc, hiding in the kitchen. You’ve never been more happy and scared to see somebody.

He finished his scone, “That was delicious. What do I owe you?”

“Two pounds,” you began writing up his bill, and on the bottom you wrote “HELP ME” in all caps. He handed you the money and you began giving him the bill, but he insisted that he didn’t need it.

“What about for your expenses or something?”

He laughed, “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that!” But you didn’t think it was funny. You were in actual, life-threatening danger.

“Okay...”

“Thank you very much, then,” he stood up and began walking towards the door, before turning to Heidi, “Are you alright?”

She nodded, “Yeah.”

“Alright. Night,” and then you were alone again. With her. And Murdoc.

“Lock the door,” and you did.

With the police officer gone, all you could hear was silence as you sat back down across from her, “You killed him,” you said, “The man in the motel.”

“Sort of,” she paused, “Where’s Murdoc?” You wondered why she kept asking about him, but you knew the answer. It would be easier to kill the both of you at once.

“I told you. I don’t know,” you prayed he stayed where he was - that was, until you heard metal moving around in the back room. Fuck.

Immediately she shot up and began looking around, because who wouldn’t? You just hoped she wouldn’t find him.

-

She found you within the first minute. Now, you were sitting in the same booth as 2D, while Heidi pointed a gun at you.

“You’re a liar.”

“I didn’t know where he was until a minute ago!” 2D yelled, pretty much cutting her off before she could finish her sentence.

Shivering, she held the gun tighter, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He bit the corner of his lip, “Because I didn’t want you to hurt him,” you were unsure how to feel about the response, but it did make you a bit warm inside.

“What are you going to do to us?” You decided changing the subject would be the best route to pursue.

“I’m gonna shoot you both,” she said.

2D shuffled in his seat, “Why didn’t you already?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“So I could hear it from you. What happened, I mean.”

“Your boyfriend tried to rape me,” he replied bluntly, “so Murdoc stabbed him. What else is there to say?”

If she were porcelain, another crack would’ve appeared, “Why can’t you just tell the truth?”

“That is the truth!”

She shook her head violently, “No. You broke into his house! You were waiting for him!”

You interrupted, “This is bullshit!”

“Muds!”

“It is!” Before he could say anything else, you went on, “There were others. You must know that!”

Another crack, “That was never proven.”

“What? There were loads! There was video and photos, we saw them. How do you know you weren’t lucky? He may have had a plan—”

“No,” another one, “No! He loved me!”

You watched her hands tremble and sweat travel down her forehead. You knew that love could make you feel trapped, but you’d never felt whatever she was in that moment.

“Heidi,” 2D said, trying to be calm, “Just let him go, yeah? I’ll let you pretend that I did it all, just—”

“Oh, you must care for me so much,” you snickered, “Don’t you, ‘Dents?”

“Shut up! Can’t you go one minute without being so bloody sarcastic and dense? We’re about to die!”

Instead of responding, you looked back at her, “Yeah. We killed him.”

“Then you have to be punished,” she responded simply, placing a finger over the trigger, “Bad people have to get punished for doing bad things.”

“You think we weren’t?” 2D asked, “I’m always in that house. I’m always in that room, on that bed. I can’t get out. Maybe I did some things I shouldn’t have done, but nobody deserves that.”

It was like he couldn’t look at you anymore, and like you couldn’t look at him, even though you wanted to. No matter how much you were able to push the feelings to the side with snarkiness and idiocy, you still felt them.

“Please, Heidi,” you muttered, “None of us asked for this. None of us,” it was weird, knowing you were gonna die. You felt old and like you knew everything, but in reality you were just a barely-twenty-year-old idiot.

From the corner of your eye, you could see him hang his head, “We’re not going to apologize, because if we didn’t do that, then I would be dead instead. And I don’t want to die.”

She cracked again, and suddenly the gun wasn’t in your face anymore. Quietly, she cried, “So what am I supposed to do? With all the pain?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know...” you were never good at being a calming presence. That was more on par with 2D, and even he hasn’t been himself.

“Okay,” then, slowly, she put it to her throat. Within moments you were pushing her down and tearing the gun from her hands, while she wept. Outside you could hear police sirens and could see red and blue stream in through the blinds.

This was the first time you’d ever made an effort to stop somebody from killing themselves.

The problem when it came to somebody with a lack of love, was that they never truly knew what it looked like. You grew up that way, but you were somewhat able to fix it. What did love look like to you?

It looked like blue hair and pitch black eyes, like a giant gap where their front teeth should be. It looked like 2D, and you promised yourself that you’d never let him go. Even if that meant only being able to keep him as a friend.

“Are you okay?” Heidi had passed out quickly, so by the time the cops burst through the door, there was no fight to be put up. You asked him this question as you stood by the cars, drinking water.

“I think so.”

You didn’t know how to interpret his answer, so you left it like that. You were just happy he was alive. Oh, and being alive yourself was pretty great too.


	16. fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end.

_He smirked, “Have you been eating my porridge as well, Goldilocks?” You were frozen in time, unsure of what move he would make next. You wanted to cry; no, you wanted to scream._

_“Please don’t...” you mumbled as he placed a hand on your lower back, slowly moving it up your shirt._

_You flinched once he made it to the dead center of your back, but he didn’t stop. His other band moved to hold your leg down, “Come on, don’t make this difficult!”_

_“Leave me alone...please. I’ll leave if you want me to but—”_

_“Are you a virgin?”_

_You thought it’d be best to lie, “No.”_

_That only made things worse, because the second he got confirmation he slapped you across the face and pinned you down. All you could do at that point was scream, and maybe, if you were lucky, somebody would hear you._

_“Please! Please let me go! Stop! Murdoc!”_

You awoke with a jump, and then remembered where you were. Across from you was Noodle, and next to you was your mum, asleep.

“Are you alright?” Noodle asked, seemingly genuine. You nodded.

“Where’s Murdoc?” You needed to see his face. Sure it was oily and would drive any sane person away, but to you it was different. It made you feel comfortable, and safe. Protected.

She put her phone down in her lap, “He’s in getting his statement taken. It’ll be okay. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

How were you supposed to tell her that Heidi wasn’t who you were afraid of, but yourself? Your mind? It was driving you mad, thinking about that night. And thinking about being driven mad made you think of that stupid quote your dad made up, which made things worse.

_You felt like you were going to pass out, so you leaned back against Murdoc for support, “I feel like I’m going mad!”_

_“Hey, to be mad in a deranged world—”_

_“Shut the fuck up!” You snapped, “Shut up! Stop quoting yourself!”_

Impulsively, you stood up, “Do you want a drink? I’m going to the machine.”

“No, thank you.”

When normal people were standing at a vending machine, they usually were focused on making sure that their drink didn’t get stuck. You, however, were fixated on your eyes. Dead.

_After a while of walking, he reached for your hand. You pulled it away, shoving it into your jacket pocket._

_“Why didn’t you burn your jacket?” He decided to ask._

_“It didn’t have any blood on it.”_

_“Yeah, but—”_

_“I’m not getting rid of it, Murdoc! It’s my dad’s!”_

Ironically, you burned the jacket the second the police decided it wasn’t worth anything evidence-wise. You didn’t want to be linked to David anymore. You didn’t have a dad.

In your reflection, you could still see the way you looked before you got into the shower at Eric’s. Covered in blood, with a white tee shirt on. The only things that were the same were your hair and your eyes, including the bags under them.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

-

“So if all of that looks good to you,” the man said, “just sign at the bottom.”

“And then I can leave?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

You stopped for a second to think, “I’ve got a suspended sentence.”

“I know. You’re just a witness. She’s confessed to everything.”

“...Right,” you thought back to the night before. As much as you didn’t like the girl, she seemed to be going through a lot, “What’s gonna happen to her?”

He shrugged, “Dunno.”

“I don’t think she’s very well.”

“What can you do?”

_“Then you have to be punished,” she responded simply, placing a finger over the trigger, “Bad people have to get punished for doing bad things.”_

Heidi wasn’t a bad person. Her mind was just twisted. She believed that Eric loved her, but in reality he was just using her for some sick game.

You looked down at the paper, “Can I add a bit more?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll need to contact you later,” he said, “Where can we find you?”

You hesitated, “I’m sort of...between places at the moment.”

“Okay. Can I put you down under the other kid’s address?”

“Sure,” actually, that was probably the best idea and you didn’t know why you didn’t say it. Noodle had told you that you could stay in the cabin until you found a permanent home. 

She had started to talk about letting you have a job at her diner, too, but you didn’t make it that far since it was eleven at night and you felt like you were going to pass out.

When you walked back into the room, you noticed that everything was the same except for that 2D was gone. You thought he might just be getting a snack or something.

“Thanks for waiting.”

“That’s okay,” Noodle said quietly.

“Where’s 2D?”

She seemed a bit confused at first, and it crossed your mind that maybe he only went by that around you. But, luckily, she understood what you were trying to say soon after, “Gone somewhere.”

“What?”

“We’ll see him at home,” she handed you a note from 2D, essentially saying that he would be back soon and to look after you. That was enough to get you to start running.

After everything, the night before, you found it weird that he would just vanish. It made you worried. What could he possibly be doing that wouldn’t end in disaster? You couldn’t lose another person, especially not now. Especially not him.

The first place you went to look was in the cabin, and he wasn’t there. You figured that if he wasn’t there, there was only really one place that he could be.

That’s the story of how you ended up at Ace’s house. You’d never met him, not even once, but maybe he was a super chill guy.

“Who are you?” Asked the one who opened the door. You guessed that it wasn’t Ace.

But he did show up a few seconds after the door opened, “You’re Murdoc?”

“Yep.”

“As in the killer?”

“Um, yeah.”

He looked at the others, who were at that point crowding the door, “Stay inside.”

The first thing you noticed about him was that he was much taller than you, somewhere around 2D’s height. You wondered what it was about you that made you surrounded by people who were ridiculously tall.

“I really want to punch you,” he said.

“You can if you’d like.”

He seemed to be taking that into consideration, and looked almost as if he was about to do it, until he backed down, “What would be the point?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you decided to just cut to the chase, “But is 2...Stuart around?”

“No. Why?”

“Do you know where he might be?”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” at least, you hoped he was. You could see that this guy cared for him like you did, and that just gave you more reason to find him, “Thank you.”

Dread could start as a small thing, and be so quiet that you can’t even hear it. But it gets loud - really loud.

_“Can we feed the ducks?” You asked._

_Your brother, who was eight at the time and innocent, like you, smiled, “Ooh, ducks! That sounds fun!”_

_“No, Murdoc,” she gulped, “I already told you no.”_

_“Oh come on, mum!” Hannibal complained, “Can’t you handle ducks?”_

_Your father grinned, “It would be good for you to get out of the house.”_

_“Please?” You begged._

_The room was so quiet that everyone could hear the clock ticking. Eventually she gave up, “Okay...ducks...”_

It could get so loud that you couldn’t hear anything besides your own heart beating in your chest. When it got to that point, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

_Instead of responding, you looked back at her, “Yeah. We killed him.”_

_“Then you have to be punished,” she responded simply, placing a finger over the trigger, “Bad people have to get punished for doing bad things.”_

_“You think we weren’t?” 2D asked, “I’m always in that house. I’m always in that room, on that bed. I can’t get out. Maybe I did some things I shouldn’t have done, but nobody deserves that.”_

And then, suddenly, you knew where he might be.

-

It was easy to feel like you weren’t in control of your life. That’s because you’re not. You can’t stop things from happening. You just have to deal with them when they do.

“You probably have a good smile,” this made you snap out of your thoughts to stare at the man sitting next to you on the bus.

“What?”

“Well I can’t really tell. You should smile for me.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?” The mocking tone he used made it hard to take anything he said seriously, “For me?”

“I don’t even know you!”

He grinned, “You could.”

It was in times like this that you were glad Noodle made you start wearing pepper spray on you since the incident last night. He shut up very quickly after you pulled it out.

“Could you shut your legs, please?”

“Yep,” and he did what he was told. It was amazing how easily somebody listened to you when you threatened their eyesight.

You used to feel like you knew yourself, but for a while now, you don’t think you’ve been properly in your body. You can think you’ve run away from something all you’d like, but actually you’ve been carrying it around with you the whole time.

That’s why you were where you were, at Eric’s house, this time legally. It was open for showing, so the door was unlocked. There was nothing valuable left for looters to take anyways.

_“Is breaking and entering the best way of lying low?” He asked as you took a rock to a window and threw it._

_You didn’t answer._

Once you were inside, it looked nothing like it did the first time. There was nothing left, just walls and bookshelves with nothing on them. You looked over to where the couch was.

_You thought that Murdoc was beautiful. He had nice hair, and you liked how his eyes were different colors. The sweater he was wearing made him look calm, too, which was much different than his usual dark attire._

_At first you didn’t like the thought of getting close to somebody who could hurt you, but he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t do that. He was the only one who stayed through all of your nonsense._

_With all this in mind, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He was interesting, and beautiful, and genuine. But he had a hard time showing emotion, so you had to start basically everything._

_“Muds?”_

_He looked at you, “Yeah?”_

_You took that as an opportunity to kiss him again. It was your fifth overall, and you hadn’t been able to do that in a while, so it felt nice._

_Right then, in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to finish what you started in the car. It was the perfect opportunity. So, you pulled away and moved your face down to his neck. You could hear his breath hitch._

_The mark from the day before was still there, and you focused your hardest on spacing the new ones out. At one point, pieces of his hair brushed against your forehead, and it made you smile against his skin. You felt...comfortable._

_“‘Dents?” He mumbled, “2-2D?”_

_You leaned up and faced him, “What? Are you okay?”_

_“Could you stop? Please?”_

_“What?”_

_He pointed off in the distance, “He was throwing me off.” You followed his finger and landed on the picture you’d picked up before. You were unsure why, but it made you angry._

_You stood up, “I thought you said you wanted me.”_

_“I do,” he insisted._

_“Liar!” There was no way that he actually was being thrown off, right? He just wanted you to stop without seeming mean. If he had just told the truth you wouldn’t be mad, but here you were, mad._

_Another person who would rather lie to you than trust that you’ll believe them._

_You stormed off. In the background you could hear him calling for you, but you were too focused on getting away. At the moment all you needed was a walk._

The memory made you feel like your chest was caving in. You didn’t know why you ran out, and looking back, you probably shouldn’t have. But in a way, things probably wouldn’t have worked out in the same way since you wouldn’t have met Russel.

_“So what’s your name again?”_

_“Stuart,” you said, “but some people call me 2D. You can too if you’d like.”_

_He smiled, “Cool.”_

_“What’s yours?”_

_“Russel,” he said quickly, “Sorry if I’m talking too fast. I’m an idiot like that.”_

_You stopped walking, and he almost didn’t notice, but when he did, he stopped too. This was the first good look you’d gotten of him. You didn’t see the same things you saw in Murdoc, but this would do._

_So you kissed him too._

His room looked dead. The only thing that was the same was the giant closet. This is where it all went down, where all of your fears stem from.

_The light flicked on, and you woke up. In front of you wasn’t Murdoc, but instead, the man in the picture. Fuck._

_“How did you get in here?”_

_Your breathing quickened and you could feel yourself shaking, “I’m sorry...”_

_It was only then that you saw the rod he was holding. He put it down, “It’s okay. You just...gave me a shock, that’s all. Are you in trouble? Did you need somewhere to stay?”_

_You didn’t answer, and he sat down, “It’s alright. Are you on your own?”_

_At that point you were unsure if Murdoc had left. You would deserve it if he had._

_“Yeah.”_

_“Okay. You made a bit of a mess downstairs, haven’t you?” He moved to put a hand on your knee, but you put yours down first._

You didn’t have much memory of how Eric looked while alive, but you had plenty of him while he was dead, which was a lot worse.

_“Should we go to the police?” Murdoc asked, and you almost considered punching him. You would’ve if he hadn’t just saved your life._

_“What?”_

_He shrugged, “It was self-defense.”_

_“We broke into his house, Muds.”_

_“Yeah, and he was gonna hurt you!”_

_You looked at your feet, “Do you honestly, truly think the cops would believe that? How old are you?”_

_“It’s the truth...”_

_“We have to get rid of the body.”_

You couldn’t stand being in that room for too long, so you went downstairs. You weren’t sure what came over you, but whatever it was made you throw your jacket onto the steps and go outside.

The pool was exactly the same; not much could really be changed. You almost thought that if you looked down, you’d see the plates at the bottom, but you knew better than that.

A lot of people would find something wrong with going for a swim in the pool that used to belong to a guy you killed, especially wearing regular clothes and shoes, but you didn’t mind. It felt refreshing.

-

The thought of losing him horrified you. At first you were able to say the same about loving him, but that changed over time. Now he was the only person you had left to care about.

Eric’s home was dark and empty, but it gave you a new sense of hope. His jacket was on the stairs, and when you picked it up, it smelled like him.

“2D?” You called into the house, getting no response. That scared you more than anything. Maybe he’d just left the jacket to trick you into thinking he was close. Maybe he’d already boarded a train and was on his way to Ireland or something.

You began going up the stairs, holding the jacket to your chest. The rooms all had an overwhelming eeriness to them. It was terrifying.

_“Please! Please let me go! Stop!”_

_The various screams ended up being muffled by tissue, but from under the bed you could hear a surprising amount. Your instinct was to jump out, to protect him, to make sure that Eric stopped hurting him. But you were glued._

_However there was one scream that you took as an invitation, and although it was muffled, you could hear it clear as the day: “Murdoc!”_

_You stabbed Eric straight in the neck. He stood up and tried to fight back against you but he collapsed the second he stood. 2D, although he was covered in blood and shivering, looked relieved._

_But also horrified._

You left the room the second your mind was flooded again with the memories. You thought that if you stayed in one place for too long, the ghost of Eric would come and kill you.

_Neither of you knew how to have a good time in a house that wasn’t yours. At the moment, you were both seated on the couch, holding hands, with his head on your shoulder. It was calming._

_“Can I sing for you?” He asked. You figured ‘why not’ and agreed. There was no way for him to be worse than you were at it._

_I will always think about you  
That’s why I’m calling you back  
On my way through_

_You tried to avoid thinking of how pretty his voice was, and instead interrupted, “What’s that from?”_

_“It’s my own,” he admitted, “I get bored sometimes and write lyrics down. I don’t have much of this one.”_

_“What’s it about?”_

_He hesitated, but responded, “It’s about missing someone who’s gone.”_

_“Your dad?”_

_“N—Yes. Yes, it’s about my dad,” you could barely catch the small hint of doubt at the beginning, but you did. There was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t mind at all._

The couch wasn’t there anymore, but if it were, you probably would’ve sunk into it. You were bad at expressing emotion, but 2D was able to change that. So, as you sat on the floor, thinking about how he might actually be gone or even dead, you cried.

“Muds?”

He was there. Soaking wet, but there. You didn’t know what came over you, but you needed to feel him close to you. He definitely wasn’t opposed to the contact.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice echoing in your ear.

“Why are you wet?”

He pulled back and looked at himself, and then at you again, “I went for a swim. I feel better now,” he could see it and you knew it - he could see how broken you were, “What’s wrong?”

You remember thinking that if Heidi were porcelain, she would’ve been cracking the entire time she held a gun at you. If you were made of porcelain, you would’ve shattered right then, “The note,” you said, “You left a note.”

“Saying that I would be back.”

“You said to look after me!”

He seemed to understand, “I didn’t mean forever!” He insisted, “I would never do that to you...”

“I don’t think I can lose another person.”

“I wasn’t going to do that, Muds. I wasn’t. I promise.”

-

He looked small. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this, and all you could do as a reaction was hold him. You guessed you never thought somebody with walls made of stone could ever break.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Can we get out of here, please?”

“Of course.”

-

_You heard something hit the floor, but didn’t think much of it until after you turned around and saw your dad with people surrounding him._

_“Move!” You shouted, pushing everyone away, and trying to get him to say something, anything, “Dad? Dad!”_

It was hard, losing everyone you had. First it was your mother. Then Hannibal. Then your dad. You refused to let life smash your face into the sundae again. You had 2D back again, and you were never letting go.

“This is where they met, your parents?” He asked once you’d made it to the spot. It used to be a park, but now it was the underside of a highway. It didn’t have the charm that your dad always told you about.

He looked at you, “You don’t have to do it, Murdoc. You’re allowed to keep him.”

“No...I feel like I do, you know?”

“I guess.”

Letting him go was hard, but at the same time felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest, especially when, after you did it, 2D took your hand. It was slow, and you think maybe a tad more platonic than you’d like, but warm.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

-

There was a food truck at the top of a hill. It looked nice, and had decent enough food. Ever since you got out of his car, you’d been fairly separate, and you didn’t know how to discuss what had happened.

You didn’t know why you held his hand. Of course you liked him a lot, and you wanted to be with him, but you were conflicted. You read somewhere that if you needed to talk to somebody about something, it was easier if you weren’t looking at them.

With that in mind, you moved so that instead of being across from him, you were next to him. It didn’t feel much better but you hadn’t said anything yet so what did you know?

“I heard what you said.”

He stopped chewing, “What?”

“At the car pound,” you explained, “I feel the same.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah,” you paused, “but I need time, and psychological help. We can do some things but other things may take longer. We can hold hands, and kiss if you want, but nothing else.”

“O-Okay.”

You figured now would be as good of a time as any, “And I owe my mum about ten grand.”

“Okay.”

“Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah.”

-

It was more than okay with you. It was everything you wanted, sans the whole owing his mum money thing.

“Can I kiss you now?” You asked.

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

This time felt different than the one at the motel. It was a lot slower, and it wasn’t wrong - as in, he wasn’t technically married this time.

“I love you,” you said simply.

He had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling, “Yeah, don’t go on about it.”

You didn’t care how long it took to be able to do other things, because you had him, which was all you wanted. As long as he was yours, you were perfectly okay counting to ten again.


End file.
